


Mixed Up

by Your_Iron_Lung



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Punk, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji, Gen, Hockey, M/M, Punk, Punk Rock, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, punk!zoro, zoro/sanji - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 97,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Iron_Lung/pseuds/Your_Iron_Lung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On one fateful Saturday, Sanji finds himself getting mixed up with the annoying, irritable, and generally hated punk that lives in the apartment three floors above him, only to discover that he isn't as cruel and thoughtless as his neighbours have made him out to be. </p><p>He then finds himself rapidly being submerged into a violent subculture he'd had no interest in before, and can't seem to find his way back out of. Pretty girls, good music, and rough attitudes mix with a form of camaraderie that can only be found in the underground world of punk rock.</p><p>'You need a hobby', his old man had told him only a few days before. He wondered; did this count? A punk (eventual ZoSan) AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enterlude

**Author's Note:**

> I got a whoooole lot planned of material planned for this, so I hope it takes well. Let me know what you think eeeey.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'We hope you enjoy your stay  
> It's good to have you with us  
> Even if it's just for the day
> 
> We hope you enjoy your stay  
> Outside the sun is shining  
> It seems like heaven ain't far away
> 
> It's good to have you with us  
> Even if it's just for the day'

Swearing under his breath, Sanji swore that this sort of thing was just his kind of luck. Saturdays always were a particularly hard day for him.

He didn't mind being scheduled to work on weekends because the full-time pay was nice, but for whatever reason, he always, always, _always_ had a hard time getting them started; be it via unintentionally oversleeping, or plain old forgetting to set his alarm, it seemed- to Sanji, at least- that Saturdays were out to ruin him.

He had never in his history of working at the Baratie been able to make it into work on a Saturday on time. There was always some delay that set him back, and when this pattern had been noticed by the scheduling staff, they'd tried to accommodate for his lateness by scheduling his shifts at slightly altered times in hopes that it'd allow him to come in on time, but even then, he was inevitably late.

Nobody could figure out why.

So it came as no surprise to him, then, that as per his weekly routine, this Saturday decided to thwart him by giving him car troubles.

Twenty minutes before his shift started, Sanji was sat struggling to start his car.

The engine gagged and rolled over with every attempt to get it to start, and in the afternoon's cold sun, Sanji cursed whatever deity it was that ruled over Saturdays. He considered begging for its forgiveness as he hopped out of the drivers seat and walked around to pop the hood, but decided to curse the lord instead as he stared forlornly down at the dead battery.

Scowling, he let the hood slam shut; no amount of poking and prodding could revive the dead. Sanji growled and turned the collar of his coat up against the chill winter wind as he dropped himself to sit on the hood of his car, wondering about what he ought to do. Twisting his face into an irritable expression, he considered his options.

Option one had him running after the city bus to try and catch a ride, though he didn't know its schedule, nor its fare, and honestly didn't want to be seen running like a fool for the public transport. Option two was to call up a friend and have them come round to give his car a jump, but the only people he knew with a car were either already at work or lived too far away for them to be of any timely use.

He shivered as the wind blew by and scowled. Rubbing his hands together for warmth, he watched his breath solidify in the air, encouraging his need for a cigarette.

He dug one of his chilled hands into the pocket of his overcoat and withdrew his pack. Tapping the pack to pop one out, he took it and began tamping it on the back of his hand before sticking it in his mouth. After he'd put it between his lips, he put his pack away again and cupped his hands around the cigarette to bring it to light.

Inhaling and shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, he considered that option three was to just call in sick and take the day off. With this realization, Sanji sighed as he drew in another breath of smoke, and exhaled through his nose.

He really didn't want to have to call in sick; he genuinely enjoyed working at the Baratie, and he knew that, being the head-chef, the quality of the food served would slip if he didn't show up. And beyond that, he didn't trust his subordinates as far as he could throw them (which, admittedly, was pretty far) to run the kitchen properly.

If he called in sick today, the Baratie would be in shambles by tomorrow.

Grumbling angrily to himself about all the responsibilities he'd accumulated in his young age, he cast his gaze skywards and narrowed his eyes towards where he thought the lord of Saturdays was likely to be seated, perhaps on the grandest cloud, undoubtedly laughing at him.

'O' great, merciful lord of the weekend,' he thought, squinting and baring his teeth. 'Fuck you.'

As he blew a smoke ring in the direction of heaven (and then inserted his middle finger through it), option four presented itself to him.

A great ruckus in the stairwell of his apartment building caught his attention as a heavy and repetitive thunking noise came down the stairs. Sanji knew what it was; everyone who lived in the complex knew what it was, and as it reached the end of the steps and stepped out onto the parking lot's sidewalk, Sanji saw his last option step onto the scene.

It just so happened that his last option was the much-hated terror of the apartment building's community.

He was a green-haired punk with a bad attitude and an aura that demanded he be left alone. Absorbed in his own world of tight, acid-washed jeans and over-sized leather jackets, he was normally accompanied by his monster of a dog and was nearly impossible to approach on any given occasion.

Sanji watched him pause by the steps and crouch down to do up the loose laces of one of his boots and noted the way the gig bag he had on slid up the length of his back. The tip of the tall guitar almost touched the pavement as Sanji found himself wondering if it'd be safe to approach him, as no one he knew seemed to have anything nice to say about the man. Normally, the guy was nigh unapproachable; any past attempts that anyone could recall of trying to socialize with him had been met with his dog viciously intervening.

The man's dog was truly a menace, and if his neighbours' words were anything to go by, the man himself wasn't any better. His dog was much larger than the allotted pet weight limit allowed for residents to keep, and no one could figure out why the two hadn't been evicted yet.

The dog in question was a great, brown, beastly mutt that was constantly straining at its leash and snapping at people that happened to be nearby. The punk never said a word of command to it, and looked as though he could barely keep it in line when it lunged at people. Without the dog by his side, though, Sanji didn't know what to expect should he try to initiate anything.

Normally, he would have kept his distance. Normally, he would have left well enough alone and conceded defeat to whatever it was that didn't want him working on Saturdays.

But today was not normal. Today was Saturday.

Drawing in an anxious breath of nicotine, he let it go and stood up as the man finished tying up his boot.

"Hey," Sanji said, addressing the punk from a few empty parking spots away. Met with either indifference or ignorance, he scowled and held his cigarette in hand as he called out, "Oi, I'm talking to you."

Unable to tell still if he was being purposefully ignored, Sanji called out louder with more than a slight hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Hey, punk!"

Finally having seemed to catch on to Sanji's attempts at his attention, the punk spared him a glance and froze in place. Sanji stared at him expectantly as the man began to look around him, turning around stupidly before looking back to face his caller. It almost looked as though the guy was asking if Sanji was looking to pick a fight with him, but even as he prepared himself for the worst, the green-haired man took on an inquisitive look as he dumbly jabbed himself in the chest.

Rolling his eyes, Sanji nodded, relieved.

"Yes, you, dammit; get over here, I need some help."

To Sanji's surprise, the man approached him devoid of all of his usual machismo. He seemed almost affable when he came close enough to ask, "What's up?"

Sanji faltered, not having expected the punk to be the least bit friendly. Recalling his neighbours' stories about how the man's attitude was so rudely displaced, Sanji began to find himself wondering if the amount of bias that seemed to be stacked against him wasn't entirely undeserved.

The ash line of his cigarette grew longer as he caught himself staring at the three safety pins that lined the punk's left ear, and when the man's eyebrows began to furrow, Sanji remembered his intentions.

"My car won't start," he said lamely, gesturing to his car as he tapped the ash off his cigarette. "Wondered if you might be able to give me a jump."

"Oh." The punk turned from Sanji to look at the impotent car. He continued to stare at it silently for a moment before he said, "Well, I would if I could, but I ride a 'cycle, so I can't."

"Dammit," Sanji found himself cursing, turning away angrily to kick at one of his tires. "Shit. Thanks for nothing."

Royally peeved at how his day was turning out, Sanji couldn't help but diss everyone and everything around him, and though he wasn't afraid of fighting the punk, he found himself almost regretting having called the guy out on his uselessness. He really didn't need this Saturday to be any worse than it already was.

To his immense relief, the once fearsome man merely snorted at his comments.

"Hey, it's not my fault, asshole," he said, looking more amused than annoyed at his antics.

"Shit, whatever," Sanji said, sighing heavily and resting back against his car. "Fuck me, though, you were my last hope."

With all his options dashed, Sanji relented and decided he had no other choice but to fall back onto option three. As he finished off his cigarette, flicking the butt to the side, he leaned up a bit to dig out his cellphone from the deeper reaches of his coat pocket. As he dragged his finger to unlock the screen, he looked up and noticed the punk was still waiting around on him.

"What?" Sanji asked, turning away to glance at the screen in his hand.

"I can give you a ride, if you really need it," the punk said with a slightly questioning tone. "I was about to head out before your dumbass called me over here."

Ignoring the insult, Sanji looked up from his phone and hoped that he didn't look too desperately hopeful at the suggestion.

"Yeah?"

"Sure, yeah." The guy shrugged lazily. "I mean, if you don't mind riding bitch."

Sanji pursed his lips at the terminology and saw that his acquaintance was giving him a bemused grin. Rising to the challenge, Sanji shrugged.

"Fine, I don't care, I just really need to get in to work," he said, standing up again. He glanced at the time on his phone before pocketing it. "I got ten minutes before I'm late; think you can manage that?"

The green haired man grinned.

"The pressure's on."

As he stepped away, Sanji walked back around to the driver's side door of his car and locked it before following the punk to his motorcycle. The man slipped the gig bag off his back and handed it over to Sanji as he straddled himself across the motorcycle's seat.

"You're going to have to carry that while we ride," he said, slipping his key into the ignition and revving the motorcycle to life. "It catches wind, so don't fall off or anything."

Sanji frowned as he strapped the tall guitar to his back.

"And if I do?"

"Then you'll have to buy me a new bass," he said, looking entirely serious as he reached down to pick up an old-school helmet, which he then passed to Sanji.

"Asshole," Sanji grumbled as he put the helmet on and buckled it. He felt stiff as he mounted the bike, trying to manuever while hte guitar force his back to remain in an upright position while he slid onto the seat behind him.

Hesitantly, he draped his hands over the punk's shoulders and tried not to lean in too close, as the pointed studs that lined the crude back patch of his leather coat pressed into him uncomfortably. The motorcycle's engine revved loudly, and Sanji found himself lifting his feet as they were carefully backed out of the parking space.

"Where do you work?" The man had to shout to be heard over the noise of the engine.

"The Baratie," Sanji shouted back, making sure to yell as directly into the punk's ear as possible, and grinned when he saw him wince. "Over on East Sambas street."

The man didn't reply, but sat still for a moment, as though he were thinking about what the best route to take would be. Just as Sanji was about to ask if he knew where that was, the man started them forward, and then they were off.

True to his word, the tall guitar caught a lot of wind resistance as they rode, initially causing Sanji to fear flying off the back. He had to strengthen his hold over the driver as the resistance tried to drag him back, but when they got into the city, their speed dropped to comply with the inner-city speed limit and he found himself relaxing as the wind lost most of its force.

Their surroundings became familiar the longer they rode on, and Sanji felt relief flood him as he thought that he might be able to make it in on time after all. Looking over the punk's shoulder, he could see that they were approaching the Sambas street intersection, and was about to celebrate his success, when his ride drove straight past it.

Confused, Sanji turned back around to watch the street fade back as they rode further away from it. He wondered if the man perhaps knew of some short cut to get him to the Baratie even quicker, but this thought quickly disappeared as soon as he realized that the man's slowed speed meant that he was lost.

"Hey," Sanji said, trying to raise his voice over both the wind and the motorcycle's motor as they rode through unfamiliar streets. "Hey!"

"What?" The guy said, turning his head to glance back at him quickly.

"Where the hell are we going?!"

Instead of replying, the man pulled to the side and stopped to park beside the street sidewalk, using his legs to prop the motorcycle up.

"What?" he repeated when they'd stopped, looking annoyed.

"I said, where the hell are we going? Sambas street was 5 blocks back!" Cross, Sanji got off the back of the motorcycle to pull out his phone and check the time. He thought that they'd been making good time, but this setback had officially made him late. "Goddammit, now I'm late. Good going, shithead."

"Hey," the punk said angrily, putting down the kickstand for his bike to join Sanji on the sidewalk. "I didn't have to give you a ride, you know; a little word of thanks would be appreciated."

"Oh, yeah, sure; thanks for making me late!" Sanji scowled and undid the bike helmet, shoving it roughly into the punk's hands. "I can't believe you drove straight past it. Are you fucking blind?"

"Well fuck you too," the green-haired man retorted, dropping his helmet onto the motorcycle's seat. Sanji couldn't tell if the red in his face was from embarrassment or from riding against the cold.

"What's your fucking phone number?" Sanji demanded, unlocking his phone and navigating to the contacts folder. He shrugged out of the man's guitar bag and all but threw it at him as the punk stared at him. "Well? Come on then, asshole, I don't have all day."

"I'm between phones right now," he said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Sanji as he put the guitar on his back. "What the fuck do you need it for?"

"So I know I have a ride home after my shift ends." Sanji sighed as he typed up the name for the new contact, labeling it 'Idiot Marimo' for the time being.

"What the fuck makes you think I'm giving you a ride home?" the man snapped angrily.

"Because, shithead, you made me late; you owe me now."

"Like hell I do," he said with a snarl, turning to get back on his bike. "Call a fucking cab or something; it's not my fault your car died on you. It's not my responsibility to keep driving your ungrateful ass around."

Sanji grabbed hold of his shoulder and pulled him back before he could remount the bike. The motorcyclist looked about ready to start a fight, then, clenching his fists and stepping in dangerously close to his person, but Sanji ignored his mean look as he calmly took out his pack of cigarettes and fished one out to light.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly in an effort to diffuse the situation, Sanji turned an even look on the man and was met with a mild expression of annoyance.

"Look, fucker, don't make this hard on me. Just give me something I can fucking reach you at by the end of my shift so I don't have to waste my money on some sketchy late night transportation when I'm probably gonna have to spend all I have on a new battery for my piece of shit car anyway, alright?"

The man looked unwilling still, but as they stood there in the cold on the edge of the sidewalk, eyeing each other warily, he ended up sighing and conceding.

"Fine. Fine, fine. Jesus, you're fucking annoying though," he said, and held out his hand for Sanji's phone.

He was almost afraid that the guy was going to take it and break it, just to spite him, and so was hesitant in handing it over, but once it traded hands, Sanji realized that the guy had no intention of wrecking it.

Sanji watched as the guy typed in some kind of contact info, and looked it over when his phone was passed back to him. He stared blankly at what was typed in the section that stored e-mail addresses, and could feel his irritation reach a new threshold as he read what was written.

"'Wildslutangel22 at Yahoo? Are you shitting me?" Gritting his teeth, Sanji glowered at the punk angrily. "Are you for real right now? Swear to god if you're fucking with me-"

"Nah, it's totally legit," the man said, laughing. "It just blows people's minds when I tell 'em it's mine. It's hilarious."

"Christ, you are a real piece of work, you know that?" Sanji said irritably as he pocketed his phone, ignoring the fact that he was now twenty minutes late for work.

"Sure do," he replied, still grinning as he covered his spiked head of hair with his helmet. "Email me a few hours beforehand so I don't forget. Or don't, so I do. And my name's Zoro, by the way; to hell with that 'Marimo' shit you're trying to pull."

Sanji gave him the middle finger as he turned away to walk back the way they'd come, only pausing long enough to turn back and yell, "Well with that shitty dye-job, how was I to know?"

He laughed when he saw that Zoro had raised both his middle fingers high up over his head. Feeling a bit better, but still pressed for time, Sanji hurried on down the street even as he saw Zoro ride by, presumably on his way to his own job.

"Fucker!" he shouted after him, and heard, but didn't see, Zoro yell "Asshole!" back over his shoulder in reply.


	2. Sunday Morning Coming Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'On a Sunday morning sidewalk  
> I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned  
> 'Cause there's something in a Sunday  
> That makes a body feel alone  
> And there's nothing short a' dying  
> That's half as lonesome as the sound  
> Of the sleeping city sidewalk  
> And Sunday morning coming down'

If Sanji had thought that showing up for work thirty minutes late was bad, he would have been mortified to have been in Zoro's position.

He'd gotten lost promptly after he'd dropped Sanji off, having no idea what part of town he was in or even how he was meant to get from his current location to his place of employment. He'd rode around for what seemed like hours, turning down unfamiliar streets in directions he didn't know the names of in hopes that, by some random chance, the road might lead him to his job of its own free will.

But when the windchill got to be too much, and his gas level got to being too low, he eventually pulled over and stopped to ask a passerby for directions to Super-Star! Guitars and Music, and only then was he able to get in to work-

an hour and a half late.

Super-Star! Guitars was a low-key, but popular, streetside music store roughly twenty minutes from where he'd departed with Sanji. The store was sat snug between other establishments on one of the busiest downtown streets, and as Zoro rode up to it, he could see that they were getting plenty of business. Every parking spot in front of the store was full, and although parking was an issue for most patrons, for Zoro, it was easy.

He bumped his motorcycle up onto the sidewalk and rode it slowly through the people who were stupid enough to stand in his way and watch him go. He revved the engine to get a few stragglers out of his way as he walked it to where the bike rack was, wherein he parked his motorcycle and cut the engine.

Casting a mean look to a couple who still had their eyes on him, he undid his helmet and tucked it under his arm. He dropped the bike's kickstand and stood up, stretching his back as well as he could with the bass strapped to it. He dropped his frozen hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and grit his teeth, already dreading the teasing he was sure to get for coming in late.

He fixed his eyes on the storefront and made his way inside.

"You're late." He was greeted immediately by the slight, orange-haired woman who was snickering at him from her spot behind the welcome counter. Zoro scowled and laid his helmet on the counter's surface, leveling her with an irritated gaze.

"Shut up, Nami, I know," he said bitterly as she took his helmet and set it somewhere out of the way.

Nami laughed lightly and leaned back in her wheely chair, twirling a pen nimbly between her fingers.

"You missed three lessons, you know; poor little Tony's  _still_ sitting back there, waiting on you. What kept you? Don't tell me you got lost."

"Three? I missed  _three_ lessons?! What the fuck," Zoro said, ignoring the rest of her statement. "What time is it?"

"This is why you need a cellphone, Zoro; I've been trying all morning to get in touch with you," Nami said with a sad sigh, but then began to grin cattily. "I could always spot you the cash for one-"

"No, no, God knows I need to take out another loan from _you_ ," Zoro growled through clenched teeth, and walked on by as she laughed loudly at him.

The inside of Super-Star! Guitars was bigger than it looked from the outside, but was filled up with all sorts of musical instruments and a center stage (for open mic nights) that made walking through the store a bit of a challenge. He stepped carefully around the displayed, hand-made guitars that bore the Cutty Flam signature (staring longingly at them as he passed), and made his way to the back of the store where they offered music lessons.

The large banner that advertised them hung above a short, out of the way hallway that Zoro walked down, hoping that he wasn't in for too much trouble. As he turned the corner that led to the waiting room, he could see the lessons coordinator sitting in his office and a small, young little boy looking quite dejected on one of the tacky, hawaiian print couches the owner of the store had insisted on buying.

Guilt began to run through Zoro as he wondered how long the poor kid had been waiting for him.

"Hey, Tony," Zoro said, giving the boy an apologetic smile as he stopped in front of him. "Sorry I'm late; please don't tell your grandma."

Tony's expression immediately picked up when he noticed Zoro.

"Zoro!" he said excitedly, hopping up off of the disgusting looking couch to pick up his small guitar case. Despite it being child sized, Tony still managed to stumble with the bulk of it, but caught himself quickly, and beamed up at Zoro with a wide grin.

"Want me to carry that?" Zoro offered, but Tony shook his head.

"He carried it all the way back here himself." The lessons coordinator who'd been sitting in his office chuckled as he came out to greet Zoro. "You're very late, I see!"

"So I've heard," Zoro said lamely, grumbling at the tall, skinny man. "Hey, Tony, go ahead and get set up, I'll be right in."

"Yes sir!" Tony chirped, and hefted his instrument in his tiny hands and pressed through the double-doors to make his way back into one of the soundproofed lesson booths.

When Tony was gone, Zoro sighed and turned to the coordinator who was humming thoughtfully.

"What's the damage, Brook?"

"Well," he began with a smile. "You have two sets of parents very upset with your unprofessional work demeanor, but neither of them decided to stop their children from seeing you. All in all, it could be worse, but it seems luck has you in her favour today."

"Yeah right." Zoro snorted and mused on Brook's words for a moment before he hesitantly asked, "What'd Franky say?"

Brook laughed aloud and put a hand on Zoro's shoulder, patting it comfortingly despite the studs that protruded forth from his jacket.

"What Franky doesn't know won't hurt him, I dare think!"

"Shit, you're a life-saver," Zoro said, entirely more at ease, and Brook laughed some more.

"Yes, yes, I am! Now go and teach that endearing young child something new!"

Zoro rolled his eyes but nodded, grinning slightly to himself as he followed after his pupil.

When Zoro stepped into the lesson room Tony had set himself up in, he took off the gig bag that held his guitar and propped it against the wall. Tony was watching him silently as he shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it across the back of his seat before sitting down and reaching out for the stock acoustic 6-string they kept in each room.

He played a few chords as he looked at Tony, who was sat with his child-sized guitar in his barely capable hands. The excitable expression on his face was gone, and he looked more subdued as he swung his legs aimlessly over the edge of the chair.

"What's up, bud?" Zoro asked, leaning over to turn on the amp Tony's guitar was plugged into.

Tony remained mute for a moment before speaking very quietly.

"Are we still gonna play at the Winter Solstice thing?"

"Yeah," Zoro said. "As far as I know. You still want to?"

Tony nodded his head somberly.

"And you're still gonna back me up on the bass, right?"

"Sure am," he said, playing a few chords to the song they'd been practicing. "I think you're ready for your big debut."

Tony smiled, but in a strained sort of way.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a quiet, timid voice.

Zoro grinned and leaned forward to tip Tony's hat off his head, and as the kid scrambled to keep his guitar in his lap while retrieving it, he laughed.

"Sure I'm sure," he said as Tony gave him a malicious look, replacing his hat on his head. "You're really good for a kid your age, I'm sure you'll be a big hit."

"Shut up! Just because you say that doesn't make me proud at all!" Tony said, but his evil look had dissolved into a fit of ecstatic giggles that betrayed his true feelings.

In much lighter spirits since his run in with Sanji that morning, Zoro grinned, and together they launched into a practice of the song they were going to perform at the store-held mini music festival.

However, in a restaurant twenty minutes away, Sanji's stress levels had reached their peak.

Lunch hour was always tough, but today, being the Saturday that it was, seemed to have thrown him a particularly vicious lunchtime rush. No matter what he did, he simply couldn't keep up with the demand, and, to make matters worse, they were short on waiting staff and he'd been forced to fill the empty positions on top of making meals.

To say he was irritable was an understatement.

He'd had three dishes sent back in the duration that he'd been there- dishes that _he'd_ made- and then served-  _and then had to take back to himself_. There was no man or god alive that could convince him that Saturday's hadn't been invented to spite him.

By the time the lunch rush had receded, and prep for the dinner service began, Sanji was already on his last cigarette. He'd chain smoked relentlessly through his stress when he could, and burnt out his last pack before the day was even through.

As he sat smoking outside with a few other chefs during the small break that they had, the day's previous events with his car found a way to gnaw at his already frazzled nerves. Even if he survived the dinner service, could he really rely on that moss-headed asshole to remember to get him? Would the guy even follow through on his word? Scowling, Sanji pulled out his phone and unlocked it, wherein he began to write up an email.

Recepient 'wildslutangel22@yahoo.com'

Subject: hey asshole

Messsage Body: 'if you're even thinking about forgetting to give me a ride home tonight, you'd better think twice. i know where you live. ill call animal control. i get off at 11.'

Satisfied with his reminder, he hit 'send' and resumed smoking until his break ended.

The dinner rush hit the Baratie hard and fast, and Sanji found that he was being overwhelmed almost as soon as it began. He cursed his Saturday luck with having to work with the worst of all their kitchen staff as he struggled to maintain the quality that their restaurant boasted. He felt he was about to be consumed whole by the vicious demand when he felt his phone vibrate a reminder against his leg.

He paused with what he was doing, knowing full well he didn't have the time to be checking his phone, but was also aware that if he didn't stop to take a breather soon he may very well fall apart.

On any normal day, this heavy flow of diners would do little to phase him. But today was not a normal day.

Today was Saturday.

Slipping out of the kitchen with an excuse of having to use the restroom, Sanji retreated into a much calmer portion of the restaurant. He sidled into an open stall, locked the door behind him, and checked his phone's notifications.

Sender: 'wildslutangel22@yahoo.com'

Subject: RE: hey asshole

Message Body: tmi.

Sanji stared at the reply, frowning as he attempted to figure out what he meant by 'tmi', when it hit him suddenly. His frown turned into a fierce scowl as he angrily typed his reply.

'what are you, 12? grow up.'

He sat still on the toilet lid, wondering if he should bother to wait for a reply, when his phone buzzed and offered him one.

'maybe. what am i supposed to do for 3 hours?'

If Zoro had three hours to spare before he came to give Sanji a ride home, that must've meant he got off at eight. Sanji decided he hated this bastard even more than he already did; some guys had all the luck.

'come find me,' he replied bitterly, and tucked his phone back into his pants and exited the bathroom, returning himself to his life-draining work before he wasted anymore time replying to that jackass.

* * *

In the hour before Zoro was allowed to leave, he generally found himself hanging around the front desk with Nami. His work day ended with a group lesson at seven, but in order to get the full-time commissions pay from Franky, he got scheduled to hang around the store till eight.

Sometimes he'd sit around the store playing the various guitars and things that were too expensive for him to afford, but after having played music all day prior, it got to be a little boring repeating himself. Brook was busy scheduling and hosting lessons of his own, Franky was oftentimes in the back carving up a new guitar, and the sales staff were all too afraid of him to be any fun.

That left Nami, one of the few other punks he knew, as his only time-killer. He sat in her rolling chair, refreshing his email on her work computer as she sat beside him on top of the counter.

"You know, you only get new emails when someone sends you something, right?" she remarked cheekily, kicking gently at his arm with one of her thick-soled, floral patterned, booted feet..

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said with a resigned tone, and signed out of his email account. He looked up at Nami with a grim expression as he asked, "Can you do me a favour?"

"It'll cost ya," she replied, winking and rubbing her fingers together.

"Come off it, I just need you to find me directions to some place."

"What place?" she asked interestedly, hopping down from her elevated perch to push Zoro away from the computer. He rolled away listlessly as he watched her pull up Google Maps.

"The uh, Bartie? Baratie? Some restaurant."

"The Baratie, really? That's a five-star restaurant, Zoro," she said, giving him a queer look of confusion. "What do you need directions to The Baratie for?"

Zoro sighed and leaned back as far as he could in the chair.

"This asshole who lives in my building conned me into giving him rides for the day," he said to the ceiling. Nami quirked her brow. "He works there or something."

"Is he rich? You should get him to pay you for it," she suggested, snickering to herself as she input the information into the computer.

"Nah, he's probably just their bus-boy," he said with a shrug, twisting around in the chair lazily. "Guy made it sound like he didn't make a lot of money."

Nami didn't say anything as she printed the directions out and handed them to Zoro. When he went to reach for them, she snatched them back and said, "Ah- ah! That'll be $10."

"You fucking witch, just give me the goddamned directions," Zoro growled, standing up to snatch them from her. She laughed as he stuffed them into his jacket, away from her cunning hands.

Nami took this opportunity to reclaim her chair, and sat in it with a flourish. Aware of Zoro's mean look still cast upon her, she gave him a cute grin before she said, "Oh! Almost forgot; guess who's playing at the Hazard in two weeks."

Zoro shrugged, feigning disinterest. "I don't know; who?"

Nami bit her lip, an excited look on her face as she burst out, "The Tralalaws! They're doing a comeback tour!"

"Wait, what? For real? I thought Law was doing med school or something," Zoro said, surprised.

"He graduated and got his band back together; they're doing a comeback tour and they're playing Punk Hazard!"

Nami almost squealed, she was so excited. Zoro, too, he found, was actually interested and excited about what she'd said. The Tralalaws had been a notorious, local hardcore punk band a few years ago, but had dismembered when their frontman decided he wanted a fallback career as a surgeon. But now, to hear that they were getting back together incited a positive reaction in him. It'd been a long time since he'd been to a live show.

"Shit, that's great," Zoro said with a wide grin. His excitement lasted all of two seconds before his grin faded and his shoulders slumped. "Aw, shit; anywhere Law headlines you  _know_ Smoker and his cronies are going to be there."

Zoro groaned, and Nami's excitement faltered as well.

"So?" she said. "Just avoid him."

"Its not  _him_ I'm trying to avoid, Nami," Zoro said exasperatedly. "If Law's playing, Smoker will be there. Fact. If Smoker's there, then Tashigi will be, too. Also fact."

Nami's eyes widened slightly as realization dawned on her.

"Ooooh," she said, frowning slightly. Zoro looked at her with an almost helpless gaze as she sighed. "Well, even if she's there, it's the Tralalaws; they're going to draw in a  _massive_ crowd, so there's no guarantee you'll run into each other."

"I guess," Zoro said, but the doubt in his voice wasn't reassuring.

"Well you can't not go just because you might run into your ex." Nami gave him a supportive grin that was lost in his lousy state of mind. "Besides, Nojiko and I are gonna buy your ticket."

"What, really?" Zoro said, looking surprised, then suspicious. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is that you have to go, come hell or high water, got it?" she said, standing up to punch him affectionately in the shoulder. Zoro wasn't swayed by her act of friendship, though, and continued to leer at her. "Well, that aaand you have to pay us back, double the ticket price."

Groaning, Zoro, ran a hand down his face, dragging his fingers under his eyes.

"Why am I not surprised? I'd be better off buying it myself."

"Well, Zoro, the thing is…" Nami began sweetly, creeping forward to play with the safety pins that lined his ear. "We already bought the ticket," she said, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

He scowled and pushed her away as she laughed and sat in her chair, running her fingers through the shaved parts of her undercut. He spun the chair around quickly, and as she twirled she laughed more until she planted her feet and dizzily came to a stop.

"Shouldn't you be heading out?" She asked breathlessly. "Gotta go pick up your date, don't you?"

Zoro rolled his eyes at her terminology and glanced at the clock display on the computer. Seeing that it was now 8:15, he shrugged and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where Nami had tucked it away earlier. He pulled out the directions she'd given him and gave them a brief glance as he strapped his helmet on.

"You think you could drop off my guitar tomorrow, since you're coming round anyway?" he asked, looking towards where his gig bag was propped against the back wall. "Don't want to have to worry about that guy falling off with it."

"Of course, no problem; I'll just collect the $10 fee tomorrow," she said with a snicker, to which Zoro groaned.

"Fine, fine, whatever, just don't mess it up," he said, and walked around the counter and headed out the door.

Nami didn't bother asking him how he planned on reading the directions while he rode along on his bike; merely smiled and waved him on his way.


	3. Fight to Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Same old vices not much to dream about  
> Is there anything left to fight about?  
> Fighting to live is the only fight, I've got left in me!'

When the dinner rush that Sanji had struggled miserably through was finally over, he found that he was far from relieved. The stress that'd built up while he was working hadn't found an outlet, and had condensed itself into one of the worst headaches he'd ever endured. He found himself wishing he'd saved his last cigarette, for he certainly felt he needed it now more than ever.

To make matters worse, the other chefs he'd been working with wouldn't shut up about his poor performance, and no matter how many times he argued that it wasn't his fault, honest, it's _Saturday_ \- no one would hear him out. They laughed at him behind his back, and a few of the bolder ones laughed about him to his face. The sultry, older chefs mumbled to one another about how he was making pathetic excuses for himself, and wondered why Zeff hadn't fired him yet, when, as luck should have it, Zeff appeared in the kitchen.

All movement ceased as the cleanup process was paused to focus on what he had to say, for it wasn't often that he came around when the kitchen was closed. Retired now, he didn't have a whole lot to do but yell and fight with his staff, and everyone wanted to know who he was about to lay into.

Zeff eyed all his employees evenly before his eyes rested on Sanji, who groaned inwardly when the rest of his coworkers began to sneer and jeer.

"You," he said gruffly. "Follow me."

Sanji felt his coworkers had jinxed him as he put the plates he'd been washing aside. Shit, he really wasn't in the mood to get chewed out. He ignored the low 'oooooh's of trouble and snickering that followed after him as he left with Zeff, but elbowed a few of the more obnoxious chefs roughly when he passed.

He told himself he wasn't nervous, but as he walked through the now empty restaurant to the back rooms where Zeff's office was, he found his fingers twitching anxiously, trying to reach for a cigarette he didn't have.

"What's this about, old man?" he asked as they walked, but Zeff didn't answer, and Sanji tried his best to ignore the weird palpitations in his chest.

Zeff's office was dark when they entered, but neither of them turned on the light. There was a low, dark glow that came in through the back window, and with what little light it provided, illuminated the aging features of the restaurant's owner. He'd turned to give Sanji a knowing, even stare, and Sanji could feel the disappointment emanating from it when Zeff turned away and went to take a seat behind his desk.

He didn't ask Sanji to sit.

"What happened today?" he asked sternly, and his voice left no room to cut around the question. His eyes, heavy and tired with age, bore into Sanji, who felt that his voice sounded deeper and more foreboding in the dark.

He felt dread begin to curdle in his stomach as he met Zeff's judgmental gaze and knew that nothing he said would be enough to excuse his poor performance. He cleared his throat and attempted to present himself with more confidence than he felt, but knew, ultimately, that it would be futile.

"It's Saturday," he offered, and even he could hear how lame he sounded. Christ, what he wouldn't give to have a cigarette right now. "Saturdays are my bad days. You know that; everyone knows that."

Zeff said nothing for a while, but ended up looking away and sighing.

"I don't care what goddamned day it is, your cooking was twice as shitty as it usually is-"

"My cooking isn't shitty," Sanji countered angrily, bristling slightly.

"...and if it keeps up, I can't keep having you around," he finished bluntly, and the look on his face was very serious.

'Shit,' he thought to himself, and not even his momentary rage could wash out the cold dread that seemed to begin to consume him.

"It's not-" he began, but faltered when Zeff looked at him again, and Sanji could see that he wasn't meeting the level of expectations he held as his son, or head chef. The lines on his face appeared deep and cavernous in the dark, and almost seemed to threaten to swallow Sanji whole. "It's just been an off day. I'll be better tomorrow," he finished saying, ignoring the way his fingers tapped against his leg and curled them into his palm.

They stared each other down in the darkness of the office until Zeff broke contact to shake his head somberly.

"No, Sanji; no tomorrow," he said sternly, and Sanji's stomach dropped clear through to the floor.

"You can't fire me," he said, clenching his shaking fists as he took a defensive step forward. "You can't fucking fire me because I had one off day!"

"Calm down, you punk ass kid," Zeff growled, eyeing Sanji fiercely. The atmosphere in the office swelled with a charged, tense energy that surrounded them and left Sanji with an uncomfortable need to defend himself. "It's not been just 'this one day'; every fucking goddamned Saturday you pull shit like this, so I'm not firing you- you're taking the month off."

Of all the things Zeff could have said, Sanji had not been expecting that. He floundered, narrowing his eyes at Zeff as he opened and shut his mouth, and while he was relieved that he wasn't being fired, and therefore wouldn't have to fight his foster-father over that, he didn't know what this meant exactly.

"What, you're putting me on leave? For a _month_?" he spat out, squinting to see Zeff in the darkness and caught him nodding affirmation. "Fuck that! A day- two days, at most!- is all I need! What the fuck am I supposed to do for a month?!"

"Get a damned hobby, you mooching kid." Zeff stood up to face Sanji at eye-level from across the room, daring him to confront him on this issue. "I said a month, so it's a month. Be grateful it's paid leave; I'm _paying_ you to take a break. Take some cooking courses- you need them."

He started to walk around the side of his desk to leave, but Sanji grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back to argue, and immediately regretted his mistake. Zeff crouched down, still surprisingly agile for a man his age, and swept Sanji's legs out from under him, using the heavy weight of his prosthetic to take him down.

"You fucking bastard!" Sanji exclaimed as he fell to the floor, even as Zeff gave him a scornful look and left the room. "You- shitty excuse for a father!"

Humiliated, he slammed his balled fist against the floor and sat sulking in his rage and embarrassment until he felt collected enough to face the rest of the staff and finish closing.

Outside of the Baratie, Zoro sat shivering on his motorcycle, trying to warm his hands by slapping them together. He tucked them up into his armpits as his teeth chattered, and he gave a nasty glare to the restaurant's entrance.

Unsurprisingly, it had taken Zoro almost the entire 3 hours to find his way there. He'd quickly discovered upon leaving Super-Star! Guitars that it was no easy feat to read directions while riding down the road with no barrier between him and the wind. Eventually, the wind had swept the directions out of his hands and he'd gotten lost before he could even blink or realize he didn't have Nami's print-out with him anymore.

And even then, once he had found the place, the people working the front wouldn't let him inside to wait. They'd scorned his punkish attire and condemned him to freeze his ass off in the cold until the blonde jackass from earlier decided to grace him with his presence.

That'd been almost an hour ago, and Zoro was just about ready to hightail it out of there. Of course he'd thought about leaving him, but his threats from earlier had bothered him enough to keep him rooted in place. Zoro really couldn't afford for anyone to call animal control on his dog _again_. So he sat still, trying to avoid contracting hypothermia by warming his hands as best he could in whatever crude manner he could think of.

Man, he wished he'd worn his riding gloves.

He was about to stuff them down his pants out of desperation when he heard a door open from the direction of the restaurant, and turned his head to see Sanji stalking towards him. He sighed in relief, but held his face in cross expression to best convey his irritation.

"F-finally," he stuttered, trying to keep his teeth from chattering as he shivered and spoke. "W-what took you so f-f-fucking long?"

"Shut the fuck up," Sanji growled, shooting him a glare that had death written all over it. "Just shut up and take me to a goddamned convenience store."

"H-hey, t-that's no way to talk to the g-guy who froze his b-balls off waiting for your s-sh-itty self," Zoro chattered, trying his best to appear mean despite how cold he was. It didn't work, and Sanji stole his helmet from off his head and put it on before clambering on to the back of the bike.

"Look, fucker, I'm not in the mood for any of your shit," he said, leaning forward to growl angrily. "Just take me somewhere I can buy some fucking cigarettes."

"I-I'm not your ch-chauffeur," Zoro tried to say as he started his bike. "Y-you're just lucky I need to get s-some fucking gas."

He revved the engine and put up the kickstand, and they took off with a wobble down the road.

Earlier, when the sun had been out, Sanji hadn't minded riding on the motorcycle; the breeze had been nice, refreshing even, but now it seemed fatal. He lowered his head, resting his forehead on Zoro's back to avoid the windchill, and remained hunched over till the motorcycle was stopped. Looking up, Sanji blinked at the bright, fluorescent lights that illuminated the gas pumps of the station Zoro had stopped at.

Propping out the kickstand, Zoro rubbed his hands together as they both dismounted and Sanji took off the helmet.

"Don't even think about leaving me here," he growled threateningly, to which Zoro rolled his eyes.

"W-whatever," Zoro replied, shoving Sanji as they both made their way into the convenience store.

The store was primarily empty save for Zoro and Sanji when they entered, save for the poor fool who had to work the late night shift. Zoro went to the counter straight away to pre-pay for gas, and Sanji, looking around, noticed two shady looking men standing by the store's entrance.

If they were muggers, he hoped they'd mug Zoro first; he really felt that he couldn't be bothered to deal with that kind of shit right now. He kept his eye on them as he strolled aimlessly around the store, looking at their limited selection of beer and energy drinks as he waited for his turn.

When Zoro had finished pre-paying for his gas, he left the counter and exited the store. Sanji noticed the two guys exchange a nod to one another before following him out, but ignored it; Zoro was an adult, he could fend for himself. Sanji doubted they'd try anything too radical by the front of the store anyway.

He approached the counter and asked for two packs of the brand of cigarettes he smoked. As the cashier reached over head to pull them down and ring them up, he glanced outside to where Zoro's motorcycle was parked by the gas pump, but could see neither him nor the other two men that'd followed him out. Frowning, he looked away to pay and stuffed one of the packs into his pocket before immediately opening the other. Feeling uneasy, but desperate for a smoke, he exited the store and looked around for them again as he pulled out a cigarette.

He found them standing off to the side, away from the clear, windowed storefront. The two men were huddled around Zoro, and as Sanji put the cigarette to his lip, his frown deepened as he made his way over to where they were standing. Upon hearing him approach, one of the men, who, Sanji noticed, had a gross tattoo lining his face, looked up and immediately took on a defensive position.

Noticing his partner's stance, the other man looked up, too, and copied his posture. Sanji narrowed his eyes but stopped where he stood, until finally Zoro noticed him as well.

"Relax, he's cool," Sanji heard Zoro say dismissively, and the two men immediately dropped their guard.

"Any friend of Zoro's is a friend of ours," one of them said, and the small group parted to let Sanji in. "But you can never be too careful, you know?"

Confused, he took part in the huddle in time to see Zoro exchange money with the guy who had the tattoo on his face. In return, he got a baggie full of what Sanji assumed was weed, though the plant appeared purple in colour.

"You want some?"

Sanji blinked dumbly at the man before finding himself looking at Zoro, who was busy inspecting the contents of the bag he'd purchased.

"It's good stuff! Brother Zoro can vouch for us," the tattooed man's partner said.

"It's pretty damn good," Zoro agreed as he put the baggie in his pocket. "Hook him up with a trial, Johnny; I'm feeling generous tonight."

Before Sanji could speak, the man named Johnny had shoved a small baggie of weed into his hand and then pulled him into a one armed hug.

"Need a light, brother?" the other man asked as Johnny let him go, and it was then Sanji realized he hadn't lit his cigarette.

"Uh, sure," he said, feeling far too surprised to react in any appropriate manner. He leaned in when the man produced a lighter from out of his pocket. "Thanks," he mumbled after it'd been lit and he drew away.

After his cigarette had been lit, Johnny hugged Zoro the same way he'd hugged Sanji and then clapped him on the back. Rolling his eyes, Zoro pat him on the shoulder until the two dealers began to leave.

"See ya, brother!" Johnny called as he left with his partner to go back into the store.

"What the fuck just happened?" Sanji asked as he stuffed the baggie into his pocket.

"Johnny and Yosaku," Zoro mumbled, and began to walk back towards the pumps. "They're like a cheap knockoff of Jay and Silent Bob. Good weed, though."

Sanji stood smoking on the curb by the convenience store as Zoro left him to pump gas. The surprise drug deal still had him confused, and as he shivered slightly from the cold and drew up the collar of his overcoat, he wondered what he was supposed to do with the weed he'd been given.

To be honest, Sanji wasn't big on drugs; he'd smoked pot maybe once in high school and hadn't enjoyed it. He didn't have any wraps or a pipe, and therefore had nothing to smoke it with. The little bag was useless to him. He frowned to himself as his headache began to re-emerge, and willed Zoro to hurry up and finish refueling.

He smoked slowly, taking his time in enjoying his cigarette and hoping it would soothe the throbbing ache in his head. The stress that had gathered in him during the day dissolved little by little as he breathed it out into the cold night air. He watched it condense and mix with the smoke and was momentarily able to forget his worries and stressors as he watched them whither away.

When he heard the clink of the gas pump being put back into its holster, Sanji grounded himself with a sigh and dropped his cigarette. He stubbed it out with a turn of his heel and walked back to meet Zoro, who stood watching him with an unreadable expression.

"You owe me gas money," Zoro said when he'd gotten close enough, and Sanji could feel his irritation come back full swing.

"Fuck off," he retorted angrily as he got onto the bike after Zoro, pulling the helmet back onto his head. "It's not my fault you got lost and wasted it all riding around like a fucking dumbass."

Zoro revved the bike's engine in what Sanji assumed was his attempt to threaten him, but instead made him roll his eyes.

"Look, fucker, I'm doing this out of the goodness of my own heart; I didn't have to give you a ride this morning, and I sure as shit didn't have to spend two hours freezing myself to death waiting to give you a ride home," he said as Sanji scowled and put his hands around Zoro's waist. He slapped at his stomach irritably and could hear Zoro grunt in response as he began to roll them out to meet the main road. "A little compensation would be nice," he said, reaching down to twist Sanji's hand back

"Don't fucking touch me-" Sanji began, pulling his hand away as he was cut off when Zoro revved the engine again to speed off down the road.

He was going to make a snide comment about how he hoped Zoro wouldn't get them lost on the way back to their apartment building, but the cold had him biting his tongue and ducking his head down once again to avoid the severe wind chill.

The ride back to their complex was fairly uneventful and largely straightforward. To Zoro's credit, he seemed to know the way from the gas station well enough and only had to turn around once. As they drove on, Sanji's exhaustion that had accumulated during the day seemed to catch up with him, and though he tried his best not to, he found himself nodding off occasionally.

Without much to focus on other than his own failures and the way the wind made an obnoxious whistling sound through the holes in Zoro's helmet, Sanji hoped he wouldn't fall off the back end of the bike when Zoro slowed down to pull into a parking space in front of their building.

Sanji felt such immense relief the likes of which he was sure he'd never known before; this Saturday, this terrible, wretched, life-ruining Saturday was finally over. He'd go to sleep, call Zeff in the morning, and try and convince him to forgive his shortcomings and forget that this day had ever happened at all. He'd get his job back and he'd conquer whatever curse had been laid upon him to make Saturdays so all consumingly awful for him and be reborn into greatness.

Well, that was the idea, anyway.

Unbuckling the helmet, Sanji dismounted the motorcycle and shoved it into Zoro's hands before he could say anything.

"Thanks for the ride, jackass," he said as he stepped up onto the sidewalk and hurriedly began to make his way to his apartment.

"Hold on a fucking minute," Zoro called, awkwardly trying to get off his motorcycle quickly enough to catch up with Sanji. He stumbled, but was fast enough to latch onto his shoulder and pull him back before Sanji could enter the building. "I'm serious now, you owe me some money for all this."

"Hey, fuck you," Sanji snarled, yanking himself from out of his grip. He turned to face Zoro with a sneer, jabbing him in the chest with his finger to drive home his final point. "I don't owe you shit; you were, as I recall, doing this out of the 'goodness of your own heart'; so quit fucking griping to me about your own idiocy!"

Zoro went silent and still, but the look on his face said this wasn't over yet. Sanji narrowed his eyes and brought his hand down to his side, readying himself for what surely was about to be a fight.

And then Zoro relaxed; his posture slouched and his arms went lax, so it was with complete surprise that Sanji suddenly found himself the victim of a ferocious headbutt. Zoro came in fast, quickly smashing their foreheads together with a determined look on his face. Sanji reeled backwards, grasping at the point of connection as he let out a yowl of pain loud enough, he was sure, to wake the neighbours.

"What the FUCK is your problem?!" he shouted, trying to deal with the pain of the random act of violence and his headache all at once, and looked up at Zoro to find that his vision had blurred.

"You are," Zoro said simply, tucking his hands into the pockets of his leather coat and acting as though this were a completely normal occurrence for him.

"So you fucking headbutt me?!"

"Yes," he said, but even then suddenly seemed unsure of what he'd done. "I always meet my problems head on."

If Sanji hadn't been in so much pain, he would have laughed. On top of being a violent asshole, the guy was a complete moron.

And then, while Zoro was caught unawares, Sanji lifted himself upright and dished out a mean roundhouse kick that caught him under the chin. Zoro fell backwards, but when he brought himself up again a snarl had curled his lips. There was no hesitation on either end as they launched themselves at each other; punching and kicking under the parking lot's streetlamp, each of them fighting to try and prove to the other that they were in the right.

Each of them thought the other would be a pushover and were, both of them, dismayed to find that they seemed to be on equal fighting level. Sanji could feel his ribs being bruised as Zoro's fists laid into him, and likewise Zoro could tell that he was going to have a black eye in the morning.

All the compressed, negative energy that Sanji had been harboring throughout the day exploded outwards in his attacks, providing emotional relief he hadn't thought he'd needed as Zoro's fists grounded him with the justification that it was okay to feel like life had ripped him off.

The fight didn't last as long as it felt it did, and ended only when Zoro began to laugh. He fell back from one of Sanji's kicks and sat straight on his ass and stared up at him blankly. His anger dissipated instantly, and Sanji scowled to see him laugh even as he stood panting from the exhaustion.

"Fuck you!" he shouted, flipping Zoro the bird as he turned away and to storm angrily into his apartment. He could hear Zoro climbing the stairs some minutes later, still chuckling to himself about whatever it was he'd found so funny, and cursed his name.


	4. I Hate Your Guts on Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Sunday always feels like a funeral  
> like setting the alarm to be on time for school  
> But don't sweat and don't forget  
> that every other day I think you're totally cool'

Sanji woke up the next morning feeling bad.

Not in a sickly sense, though his headache hadn't gone away and his body was sore from where it had bruised from the fight he'd had with Zoro. He felt bad in terms of his character, as though he'd done something spiritually wrong and deserved to be reprimanded for it.

And he did, he realized; he'd been incredibly rude towards Zoro when he'd asked for money, and although he didn't feel apologetic in the slightest, (really, it was the punk's own fault for offering a ride in the first place), he did feel that his character had suffered for refusing to pay him. He knew that, if circumstances had been changed, and he was the one giving rides to Zoro, he would have wanted money for it, too, and would have pitched a royal fit if the ungrateful bastard hadn't at least compensated him for the spent gas.

Lying in bed, he stared up dismally at the ceiling and thought about the unfairness of life.

Yesterday's bad manners, he thought, could be written off due to the fact that it was  _Saturday_  and he had no real control over himself on  _Saturdays_ because of whatever unfortunate curse it was that plagued him. If he had, he probably wouldn't have been 'fired', and his car would still work, and then he wouldn't have even  _needed_ to meet Zoro in the first place.

And oh, shit, his fucking  _car._

He groaned miserably and turned over on his bed to lie face down on his pillow. Even if he hadn't been fired, Saturday's curse would still have carried over into today when it had damned his car's battery. Those things didn't fix themselves.

Which meant he'd need a ride to an auto store.

Turning his face to the side, he glanced at the digital display of his alarm clock and noted that it was only 6:30 in the morning. He'd had a late night, and tiredly closed his eyes again to get some more rest.

Obviously, he would deal with his problems later.

When next he woke, it was at the much more reasonable hour of 10:30. He felt groggy as he sat up and yawned, but ignored it as he stood and stretched his back. He casually dressed himself in the clothes he'd worn yesterday and went into the bathroom that connected to his room.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror listlessly and began to brush his fringe into place with his fingers. He looked paler, somehow; tired, even though he'd just woken up. Faint, dark circles underlined his eyes and the goatee he was growing looked unkempt and unprofessional. He looked like he needed a cigarette.

Though it was an unofficial rule, smoking in the apartment units was typically frowned upon by the Thousand Sunny Acres staff and could land the tenant with a fine if they were caught. He hated having to go outside to have a smoke, but was left with no other choice. He grumbled to himself irritably as he trudged into the main living area of his apartment and looked out the window.

One of the perks of living in an apartment on the ground floor, he'd found, was that he was able to see everything that went on in the parking lot. He didn't consider himself to be much of a snoop, but it was handy when it came to watching out for women.

He was hoping to see one of the ladies he occasionally smoked with as he put on his overcoat and tapped on his shoes, but he scowled when he saw instead the face of the punk he'd lately become all too familiar with.

Zoro was outside, standing around aimlessly and looking bored on the sidewalk that lined the parking lot. Sanji sighed as he fished his hand into the pocket of his coat to withdraw his new pack of cigarettes, and paused when his fingers were met with the small baggie of weed that'd been thrust upon him last night instead.

The main reason he hadn't wanted to pay Zoro, (besides being cursed with Saturday night agitation), was because he didn't carry cash. His paychecks were directly deposited into his bank account, which meant, essentially, he never had a need to carry cash around. Even if he had wanted to pay Zoro last night, he wouldn't have been able to unless he'd paid for it directly himself. The idiot had pre-paid for it before he'd even brought up the fact that he wanted compensation, leaving Sanji to figure, again, that this was all that morons fault.

Frowning, his fingers tightened around the bag and pulled it out. He stared at it and wondered if maybe this would be enough to make up for it. He had no plans to smoke it himself, anyway.

Glancing out the window again to make sure Zoro was still out there, Sanji dropped the weed back into his pocket and stepped outside.

The first thing Sanji noticed was that it wasn't as chilly as it had been yesterday. His coat was largely unnecessary, but he felt it was too late now to go back and change. The second thing he noticed as he walked out of the breezeway was that Zoro was walking his dog, and it had suddenly become aware of him.

It lunged, snarling, and almost yanked itself free of Zoro's surprisingly lax grip. Sanji shouted and stepped back as it barked, and Zoro seemed to have to exert all his might to keep his dog from going after him.

"Chopper, no!" he yelled, pulling hard at the leash while Sanji stood staring at him, far too surprised to move. "Chopper!"

"What the fuck is wrong with your dog?!" Sanji found himself shouting, shaking out of his stupor to take offense.

He'd heard that Zoro's dog was big, but seeing it in person was overwhelming. Big, he realized, was an understatement; the thing was  _huge-_ monstrously so _._

"What the fuck do you want?" Zoro growled through grit teeth, focusing hard on keeping his dog under control. Chopper's hackles were raised as he strained hard at the leash, saliva dripping from his mouth as he growled lowly in Sanji's direction. It looked as though he could yank himself free of Zoro's grip at any time, momentarily causing Sanji to forget what he'd wanted to say.

Ignoring the way his hands had begun to shake at the threat of the massive dog coming after him, he went to take out his pack of cigarettes and remembered what he'd come outside for when his hand brushed the baggie of weed.

"I uh, was going to apologize about last night," he said, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. His eyes never left Chopper, who was still pulling purposefully against his lead. "Er, also, I need to give you the stuff we got from, uh, Johnny, last night."

Zoro looked confused for a moment and frowned.

"What? Why?" he asked stupidly, and then shook his head and yelled at Chopper when he lunged again. "Look, just- just come by my apartment in an hour," he said, pulling Chopper away as they stepped on down the sidewalk. "I can't talk with Chopper."

"Which one's yours?" Sanji called, smoking lazily now that the threat of being eaten alive was dwindling.

"Top floor," Zoro yelled, and then gestured to the opposite side of the building as he turned away with his dog. "All the way at the back; on the right!"

He watched Zoro walk down the sidewalk and saw them step off into the woods that lined the apartment complex. Sanji let out a relieved breath and tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette and then turned to stare at his car. Damned piece of junk.

Wondering if, perhaps, Saturday's curse might have faded, he pulled out his keys from his coat pocket and made to try and revive it. He unlocked the door and left it open as he sat smoking in the drivers seat, and then tried the ignition. It made a promising sound and Sanji thought it was about to start before the engine gagged and gave way to nothing.

He scowled and sighed, but kept himself seated until his cigarette was done. When he'd finished smoking, he looked around to see if he might see Zoro again, but when he didn't, he locked his car, flicked the butt away, and walked back into his apartment.

With an hour to spare between now and their meeting, Sanji shrugged out of his coat and set about making himself a late breakfast. His mind wandered as he brought out his culinary equipment and started to cook. His movements were languid and natural, and it didn't take long before he lost himself to the feeling of productivity. He pretended he was at the Baratie while he prepped his ingredients and wondered, vaguely, if he ought to try and ask Zeff to reconsider their arrangement. He didn't realize he'd prepared too much food until he was halfway through with cooking it all.

He frowned down at the surplus, but before he could get angry at himself for making a wasteful amount, he shrugged and continued cooking. He'd just bring the leftovers to Zoro as an extra peace offering. He doubted the guy had ever eaten anything of five-star quality before, and smirked to himself, taking pride in his cooking, knowing there was no way Zoro could hate him after he'd eaten something so delicious for free.

Once he'd finished making his meal, he ate what he could and then put the rest on a clean plate and wrapped it with saran wrap. He took out his cellphone and glanced at the time, noting that he still had 20 minutes before Zoro had asked him to come by, and sat down in front of the tv to see what was new on the Cooking Network.

He half-watched whatever Rachael Ray was talking about until he noticed that it was time to head upstairs. He felt giddy as he debated on whether or not to wear his coat up, but couldn't pin why exactly he felt that way. He ignored it as he decided he looked better with his coat on and then gathered up the plate of extra food he'd made and left his apartment.

He'd heard Zoro stomping up the stairs when he returned with Chopper sometime ago, and noted that he was a lot quieter ascending the steps than the punk was. As he climbed up the flight of stairs, he began to notice that he was following a trail of dried mud and wondered if this was Zoro's doing.

When he got to the top floor, 3 flights of stairs later, he snickered to himself as he followed the trail of mud to the apartment that Zoro had indicated. He stepped around the large clumps as he went to knock on the door, and then abruptly stopped himself.

Zoro's dog hadn't been happy to see him on the street, what would happen when he saw him at the door? Could this be Zoro's way of getting back at him for their fight last night? He wondered, but considered the fact that, if Zoro had really wanted to sic his dog on him, he probably would've just done it when they'd met in the parking lot.

He knocked steadily on the door and then stepped back, breaking apart a thick clot of mud. It took a few moments, but when the door opened, there was no giant dog in sight.

Zoro gave him an odd look when he saw the plate of food in hand, but ignored it and invited Sanji in.

Confused, Sanji stood where he was.

"I thought I was just dropping Johnny's stuff off," he explained when Zoro quirked his brow.

"I got my gravity bong out," Zoro said, rolling his eyes and looking impatient. "We'll smoke your stuff and call it even. Like a, y'know, smoke 'em peace pipe type of thing."

"That's racist."

"It's the best analogy I could come up with."

"What about your dog?"

"I put him on his anxiety meds. He's sleeping in his crate in the back." Zoro raised his brow at him and leaned against his open door, crossing his arms. When Sanji didn't move, he sighed and dropped his arms, tucking his hands into the pockets of his denim vest. "Quit pussyfooting around and get in here."

"Jackass," Sanji grumbled before stepping inside.

Unsurprisingly to him, there was a mess of dried mud scattered across the hardwood floor that led to where Zoro's boots sat on a bath rug along the far wall. Sanji was half-tempted to ask about it, but thought better of it as Zoro shut the door behind him. He gave a quick glance to both the food in Sanji's hand and the coat he was wearing before passing him into the main living area.

"What's that for?" Zoro asked, and Sanji shrugged.

"I made extra; figured I'd give them to a guy who obviously had no taste."

Zoro tch'd and took the plate when Sanji offered it to him and made his way around the tall separating counter and into his kitchen.

"You can take your coat off," Zoro said as he opened his fridge and dumped the plate inside. "There's dog hair everywhere but you can set it wherever's clean."

"You're not gonna eat that?" Sanji asked as he took off his coat and looked around for a spot devoid of dog hair. True to his word, though, there was dog hair everywhere; nowhere looked clean, so he simply held onto it. He'd decided that the giddy feeling he'd had earlier was from wanting to see Zoro experience his cooking, and was disappointed that he wasn't going to eat it right away. "I'm going to want my plate back, so you'd better eat it soon."

"Whatever." Zoro sounded dismissive as he came back around and walked past Sanji to take a seat in the armchair in his living room.

Sanji stood around absently for a moment before he followed after Zoro, holding his coat as he sat down on the worn leather couch in front of what he assumed was the gravity bong.

A liter bottle of soda had been cut in half and was resting in a small, clear bucket of water on top of the coffee table. A stem and bowl were stuck in the side of the bottle, held in place with what looked like dried gum. Sanji stared at it with complete incomprehension.

"I feel like now is probably the time where I tell you I don't smoke," he said, digging into his coat pocket to withdraw the weed.

"Bullshit," Zoro remarked, snorting as he took the baggie from Sanji. "You were smoking when you caught me with Chopper."

"Yeah,  _tobacco."_

Zoro shrugged in response and Sanji scowled. He sat back in the sofa and watched as Zoro opened the little baggie to inspect the product.

"Their stuff usually doesn't have seeds," Zoro commented as he pulled a few away from the plant. "This trial shit, though; not a good way to market their stuff." He shook his head disapprovingly.

Sanji watched him separate the seeds from the bud disinterestedly before casting his gaze away to look at the various posters that lined the walls.

They were mostly gig posters advertising shows in venues he knew must have been local, but had never heard of or been to. A few of them had signed setlists attached to them, but the ones that caught his attention the most were the large, colourful band posters that looked handprinted.

Simple in colour- most of them had only two or three tones- they featured extravagant linework that made up for the lack of detailed colouring, and illustrated various romantic scenes and settings centered around obscure band names.

"Did you make those?" Sanji asked, gesturing to the posters, though he didn't take Zoro to be an artist; especially not a romantic one.

Zoro didn't look up, but shook his head.

"Nah. The store I work at has this guy that comes in to paint stuff, and he makes posters and shit for this weird underground art scene he's a part of. Sometimes he gives me what he can't sell," he said, finally satisfied with what was left of the weed. He began to break it apart and packed some into the bowl in the side of the bottle. "He makes all my patches, too," he said, sitting back and pulling out the sides of his vest to show off the various patches that were sloppily sewn into it. "Names Usopp, he's some kind of freelance artist, I think."

"Usopp," Sanji said, musing quietly to himself before a look of recognition crossed his features. "Curly hair, long nose?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, narrowing his eyes slightly before he looked away to search for a lighter. "How do you know him?"

"My old man hired him for some interior design work a little while ago." Trying to feel casual, Sanji let himself rest back against the sofa with his coat folded in his lap. He watched Zoro lift some junk up off the table and scatter other things around before giving up his search.

"You got a lighter?" he asked, and Sanji nodded and pulled his out, handing it over to him. Zoro didn't take it and gave it a strange look.

"What?"

"It's white," he said. "White lighters are bad luck."

Sanji rolled his eyes and set it upright on the table.

"Says who?"

"The 27 Club, man," Zoro said around a scowl and stood up. "I got a book of matches somewhere; you can put that death omen away."

"I didn't take you to be the superstitious type," Sanji said as he rolled his eyes and picked up his lighter. He held it in his hand and looked down at it; he'd never heard before that white lighters were bad luck. He shrugged and pocketed it as Zoro left him to search through his apartment.

He took his cellphone out and checked the time, noticing that the Baratie would be starting its infamous lunch service soon. He sighed, wishing he were in the kitchens there and working instead of hanging out with the punk he'd barely come to know.

He could hear Zoro rifling around in whatever backroom he'd disappeared into, but it didn't seem like he'd be coming back anytime soon. Standing up, Sanji laid his coat on the seat and went to take a closer look at Usopp's posters.

"Hey," he said, but when Zoro didn't answer he repeated himself louder. "Hey!"

"What?" Zoro asked, but his voice was muffled and distant.

"These are all signed 'Sogeking', not Usopp."

Sanji heard a grunt emanate from Zoro's direction and turned to look down the short hall he'd gone down.

"It's his street name," Zoro eventually said after a moment of silence. "He does a lot of graffiti and stuff; can't sign that shit with his real name. Sogeking is his Banksy."

"Oh."

He continued to admire the posters for a minute or two before he grew bored of that and went to sit back down, when someone knocked on the front door. Sanji paused and then turned to face the door and then looked back at the gravity bong.

' _Oh shit,'_ he thought as a mild panic overtook him. Dammit, it was just his luck to get busted; he should've known better.

"Hey, Zoro, open up!" The voice outside was female and kept insistently knocking on the door. "I know you're home, I saw your bike outside!"

"Someone's at the door," Sanji called lamely into the back, nervously hoping Zoro would know what to do.

"So answer it," he heard Zoro say, and his hope vanished.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, fuckin'- let her in, man," Zoro grunted, sounding strained, and Sanji wondered if he was still just looking for a book of matches.

He shrugged to himself and performed the Catholic cross across himself as he went to answer the door.

' _God,'_ he thought. ' _If I'm going to be busted, at least make this woman busting me hot.'_

He opened the door, and saw that she was.

"Praise the Lord."


	5. Everybody Must Get Stoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Well, they'll stone you and say that it's the end  
> Then they'll stone you and then they'll come back again  
> They'll stone you when you're riding in your car  
> They'll stone you when you're playing your guitar
> 
> Yes, but I would not feel so all alone  
> Everybody must get stoned '

The woman at the door turned out to be the most beautiful redhead Sanji had ever seen, and to his credit, he had seen a fair amount.

But this girl- this one before him now- was gorgeous in every sense of the word, and he could feel his heart thump wildly in his chest as she turned her brown-eyed gaze upon him. Briefly he wondered if this might be love at first sight even as she looked at him with a confused expression.

Sanji soon found himself short of breath, and despite his initial fear of being caught, he recognized that she was, clearly, one of Zoro's friends and tried his best to relax.

But honestly, how could he, when her luscious, long hair was tied into a high ponytail that revealed her neatly trimmed undercut and a swans length of her beautifully pale neck? She was tantalizing in every sense of the word, and he couldn't help himself from giving her a once-over.

Her shorts- denim, ragged, and obviously hand cut- revealed slim, long, pale legs that left him mentally drooling over her. He almost swooned when she cocked her head at him and soon found himself subject to the queerest look a woman had ever given him. Realizing he wasn't flattering himself, he snapped to attention and outstretched his hand, wearing the most charming smile he could muster in the face of this astounding beauty.

"Hello-" he said in an attempt to begin to introduce himself, but she frowned and looked over his shoulder into Zoro's apartment.

"Excuse me," she said and pushed past him to get inside. "Zoro?" she called, lugging in a large blue cooler with Zoro's gig bag strapped to her back. She ignored Sanji outright as she stepped into the living area, using both hands to pull the cooler with her. "There's a creep at the door."

Wounded, Sanji wilted behind her and shut the door politely as she walked the cooler around and into Zoro's kitchen.

"I have your stupid guitar," she spoke again, speaking louder now that she noticed Zoro wasn't in the front room. She gave Sanji another weird look when he followed her, and made sure to set the cooler on the floor between them. "And Chopper's food… Zoro, do you know this guy's here?"

"Yeah, he's the asshole from yesterday," Zoro said, finally emerging from the back room he'd been submerged in, victoriously clutching a book of matches in his hand. "Just ignore him."

"Excuse you," Sanji said, and both punks directed their attention to him as he frowned deeply and strode forward to confront Zoro. "How dare you introduce me to such a  _gorgeous_ lady like that with such little grace! What lies have you been telling this angel about me? What tall-tales have you been telling her to bastardize me with?"

There was a brief moment of silence before Zoro sputtered into laughter, turning away from Sanji's disgusted face to laugh outright.

"Oh my God," the girl said, grinning broadly. "Wow. I like him, let's keep him."

Caught between wanting to put Zoro in his place for insulting him, and wanting to properly introducing himself to the woman, Sanji floundered for a moment before turning towards her and bowing deeply.

"If you would have me, I will be yours."

"Holy  _shit,_ " Zoro said breathlessly, red-faced from laughing as hard as he was. He clutched his sides as he took in several deep breaths to collect himself and chuckled deeply. "Holy shit, Nami, no, one dog is enough. Down, boy."

He swatted the back of Sanji's head and ruffled his hair, messing his already unkempt hair around. Sanji righted himself immediately and shoved at a still laughing Zoro, but was calmed when he felt a hand on his arm and turned to see the young woman looking at him with a smile.

"Calm down, Zoro can be an ass sometimes," she said, and then paused, rethinking what she'd just said. "Well, more like all the time. Still, don't let him goad you into fighting him, he gets off on that kind of thing."

"I do not," Zoro interjected, but Sanji ignored him to focus solely on Nami.

His irritation dissipated in an instant as he took hold of the slight woman's hand to covet it lovingly between both of his own.

"As you wish, Nami, my beautiful swan," he said, speaking in a low, and what he hoped was passionate, tone. She giggled and took her hand away and then shrugged out of the guitar bag while Zoro crouched down to pop the lid off the cooler she'd brought.

Curious as to what she'd brought over, Sanji leaned over to peek in at its contents and saw that it was filled with various packaged meats.

He immediately thought that they might be having a barbeque soon, and was about to offer his culinary services to whatever it was Nami might be hosting, when he realized the two were talking about him.

"So, what's his name?" Sanji heard Nami ask, and was about to provide her with an answer when Zoro spoke instead.

"Uh," he said, frowning and looking confused as he stood up with a handful of meat and walked to the fridge. Opening the freezer, he dumped the meat inside and then turned around to look at Sanji with a blank expression. "I don't know, actually," he admitted, and Sanji could feel his irritation start to rise again.

"Sanji," he replied, gritting his teeth so as to keep himself from biting out a harsh remark in front of Nami. "My name is Sanji. It was in my email address, idiot."

Zoro shrugged and then bent down to scoop up and store the rest of the meat.

"So he's the guy you were emailing, huh?" Nami said, unzipping the gig bag to take out the white bass. She held it for a moment before slinging the strap over her shoulder and playing a few notes. "The Baratie bus-boy?"

Caught up with admiring the way Nami looked holding the long guitar, it took a few moments for her words to sink in, but when they did, they sunk deep, and Sanji immediately boiled over.

" _Bus-boy?!"_ Sanji whirled on Zoro, entirely offended that he'd been demeaned in such a way. Zoro paused in taking the guitar from Nami to give him a cool, collected stare before shrugging and turning away again. "I'm a  _chef,_ actually; the  _head chef,_ in fact! Bus-boy, how dare you?!"

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" Zoro said around a scowl as he reached for his guitar again, only to have Nami playfully pull it out of reach. "You're the bitchiest person I've ever known, I swear to God. If it's not one thing with you, it's the other."

"You could have asked," Sanji said, simmering down and stuffing his hands into his pants pocket dismally while he watched Zoro make another attempt at taking his guitar back from Nami. He longed for a cigarette, but restrained himself. "When you make assumptions like that, you make an ass out of you  _and_ me, you know."

Zoro snorted loudly in retort and circled around Nami, who'd hid the bass behind her with a cheeky smile. She turned with him, backing up against the counter to prolong their game of keep away whilst simultaneously being careful enough to not bang the guitar against the low cabinets.

"Ah-ah," she chided, sticking out her tongue and winking when Zoro darted his hand around around her hip. "I saw the bong when I came in; I'll let you have Wado back if you let me smoke with you guys."

"No way," Zoro said immediately, to which Nami pouted. "There's not enough for all three of us; it's just one of Johnny's trial things."

"Oh come on, please? I know you've got more than that," she pleaded, but Zoro shook his head and took a firm stance, crossing his arms across his chest decisively. Nami's playful expression turned sour as she huffed and frowned, kicking at Zoro's shin lightly. "Fine. You owe me $30 for bringing Wado here, then."

"You said ten last night!" Zoro exclaimed, but it was Nami now who stood firmly by what she'd said. He sighed and uncrossed his arms, rubbing at his brow in frustration. "It's not even  _my_ weed, you thieving witch," he said exasperatedly, giving her a mean look that she returned two-fold.

"Oi, that's no way to talk to a lady," Sanji said, stepping in to come to Nami's defense. She smiled at him, and his heart fluttered, encouraging his act of valour. Zoro looked unimpressed as he sided with Nami, but Sanji wasn't looking to make friends. "You're right; it isn't your weed- it's  _mine,_ and if the lovely lady would like to smoke with us, then she may."

They stared at each other intensely, each of them daring the other to back down or argue their point further, when Zoro relented with a groan. His shoulders slumped and he let his head fall back, glaring up at the ceiling while Nami stuck her tongue out at him and left his guitar propped against the counter to lead Sanji into the living room.

"I don't get to smoke very often, and Zoro's always really stingy," she explained as she sat down on the couch in front of the bong. Sanji sat beside her so that their legs were touching and gave her a smile, which she reciprocated before turning away to search the table for a lighter. "My sister is pretty straight-edge, so I can't smoke at home, and Zoro's the only guy I know who'll put up with Johnny and Yosaku long enough to buy their stuff. They're stupid creeps, but they grow  _the best_ weed. Hey, you got a light?"

"Sure," he said, sitting up a bit to pull out his lighter. From the direction of the kitchen he heard what sounded like singing, and paused with what he was doing to listen. He glanced back to where they had left Zoro, and saw him walking towards them, not singing, but, to Sanji's surprise, playing his guitar.

It was mesmerizing the way Zoro exhibited such skill and precision while looking so lackadaisical about it. The notes he pulled from his bass were low in tone and hard to hear, but even so, Sanji could tell that the man had immense talent when it came to handling the instrument, and found himself staring at the way the punk's fingers maneuvered nimbly up and down the fretboard, effortlessly pulling forth the sounds that Sanji had thought he'd been singing.

"You should see him play when he's plugged in," Nami whispered, leaning in close to Sanji to speak secretly, grinning as she watched him experience Zoro's playing for the first time. "He's really good."

"I see," Sanji replied, still focused on the way Zoro's playing sounded like low singing.

He heard Nami giggle lightly as she leaned away and shook himself free of the stupor he'd found himself in.

"Oh Sanji," Nami said, louder now and with a beautiful smile to accompany her sing-songy voice. "Lighter, please?"

"Oh, my darling, of course!" He apologized and appeared embarrassed as he dug his hand into his pocket, fumbling around briefly before his fingers finally found it. He was about to pull it out when Zoro sat down in the armchair across from them and made a few angry twangs on his guitar that interrupted Sanji's movement. When Sanji looked at him, he shook his head.

"What'd I tell you about that thing? Bad fucking luck, don't pull it back out."

Zoro set his guitar on the stand that sat beside the chair and then turned to the side, re-positioning himself so that his legs were slung over the arms of the chair. He lounged back, letting his head loll across the opposite arm rest, and closed his eyes. Nami rolled her eyes at him and then turned to question Sanji.

"Don't tell me it's white," she said, and Sanji nodded. She made a clucking sound with her tongue before standing up and moving close enough to Zoro where she could shove his head. "So where're the matches then, hm?"

He opened one eye to look up at her with a frown, and wordlessly produced the book of matches he'd found earlier. When she went to take them, he grinned and sat up, pulling them just out of her reach.

"Ah-ah," he mimicked, and then tossed the matches over the table to Sanji, who easily caught them. "It's his weed; at least let him take the first hit."

Sanji heard Nami sigh and saw her put her hands on her hips to glare at Zoro before she eventually agreed and came back to sit down beside him. Though he was grateful for the chance to take the first hit, he sat still and held the book of matches in his hands as he stared blankly at the bong in front of him without the slightest indication of how he was meant to use it.

"Hey, asshole, remember what I was saying earlier?" he said, addressing Zoro, who'd picked his bass back up again and was playing it lazily. "I don't smoke; I have no idea how to use this."

"You don't smoke?" Nami asked, looking surprised. Sanji shook his head, and was confused to see that she looked almost concerned. "Oh, Zoro, we can't use the gravity bong then. Go get a pipe."

"I already packed the bowl," Zoro said, sighing as he slapped his thumb against the strings absentmindedly. "He'll be fine."

Nami sighed and frowned, looking at the bong and then Sanji, and then the bong again. He was about to reassure her that he'd be okay as Zoro had said, when she sat up and went to take the guitar from out of Zoro's hands.

"Hey," he protested, trying to stand up fast enough to take his guitar back from her when she shoved him to sit back down.

"You're going to show him how to use it," she said, placing the guitar back in its stand. She turned to Sanji and looked almost sympathetic as she beckoned him to toss the matches back over.

"You're going to get really high using this," she said as he aimed and threw the matches to hit Zoro square in the face. Zoro grunted, and Nami smiled and laughed before she continued speaking. "Like, insanely high. One hit will probably do you in; Zoro and I have a really high tolerance so it won't hit us as hard, but the gravity bong is designed to get people really high, really fast, so, just, be prepared."

"How sweet of you to worry over me!" Sanji exclaimed, but his flattery was lost on her. Her smile faded into that weird expression that appeared almost concerned, but he assured her with a warm smile. "I smoke cigarettes regularly, I'm sure I can handle it; don't let your beautiful visage be wrinkled with worry for me."

She smiled weakly as Zoro sat up with a groan and then came to kneel in front of the table on the floor. He adjusted the bong so it sat closer to him, and rose up on his knees to get ready to explain, looking Sanji in the eye.

"Okay," Zoro began, opening the little book of matches. He pulled one out and lit it, placing the book on the table and then using his free hand to steady the bottle floating in the water. "Light the weed, first of all. Once it's lit, you pull the bottle up.  _Slowly._ "

Adhering to his own instructions, Zoro held the match to the bowl for a moment before shaking it out. He slowly began to lift the submerged bottle, and Sanji watched it fill with smoke as the stench of lit marijuana began to fill the room.

"Don't pull it too far up because you'll just let all the smoke out," Nami explained, watching Zoro enviously. "The absolute worst thing you can do is pull the bottle all the way out of the water; that's wasted weed  _and_ wasted money."

Sanji nodded and watched as Zoro sat up a little more and tossed the spent match onto the table. Inwardly, he snickered, wondering if this was what his old bastard of a father had had in mind when he'd told him to get a hobby.

"This next part can be tricky, but just try your best not to let any of the smoke escape," Nami narrated as Zoro began to unscrew the lid of the bottle and sat forward to put his mouth over the opening. After he'd quickly latched on, he began to slowly press the bottle down, and Sanji watched as he inhaled the smoke being forced by gravity to flood into his mouth.

"And that's how you do it!" Cheerfully, Nami gave Sanji a reassuring pat on the back as Zoro pulled off the bottle, holding the smoke in his mouth and quickly screwing the cap back on. "It can be a lot to handle all at once, so if you need to take smaller hits, just try and get the cap back on as quick as you can and try again."

Zoro's cheeks protruded almost comically from the sides of his face before he finally exhaled and blew out the smoke in Sanji's direction.

"Think you can handle that, shit- _chef_?" Zoro said with a grin.

Bristling at the insult, Sanji sat up and strode around to shove Zoro out of his spot.

"Watch me, you shitty bassist," he said, taking Zoro's seat even as the punk laughed and stood up. He heard Nami groan at their exchange but politely ignored it as he grabbed a match and lit it.

He could feel the eyes of both the punks on him as he pressed down on the bottle. He felt nervous, but he reckoned that it was only because he didn't want to look like a fool in front of Nami and have her worry over him, but Zoro had made it look easy, and anything that idiot bastard could do, Sanji was sure he could do, too.

Lighting the weed, he shook the match out and carefully raised the bottle to fill it with smoke. The room was stiflingly quiet, and Sanji felt like a golfer nervously trying to make a winning put in front of a live and televised audience.

"Watch it," he heard Zoro say in warning, and stopped pulling the bottle up. He turned to leer at Zoro, who raised his eyebrows expectantly in return, and turned away again.

Sitting up to get at the proper angle, Sanji hurriedly undid the cap and quickly covered it with his mouth, and then began to press down on the bottle as Zoro had done.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the marijuanas smoke was harsher than tobacco. It burned in his throat and tasted funny on his tongue, but he held back the cough that was brewing until he'd gotten in as much as he could handle and lifted off the bottle and screwed on the cap.

"Bravo!" Nami cheered, and Sanji smiled and coughed out the smoke he'd held in.

"Thank you, my lovely Nami! Your instructions were flawless." He coughed, and Zoro laughed at him for it.

"Ignore him," Nami said with a grin and a roll of her eyes. "Everybody coughs their first time."

"You are- excuse me," he said, and turned to cough again. His eyes watered, and he wiped them before turning back to smile at her. "You are so gracious."

"Hey, asshole, you gonna finish your hit or not?"

Sanji turned to Zoro and attempted to look mean, but coughed instead.

"Yeah," he grumbled, and sat up to finish with what was left in the bottle.

He was already beginning to feel the effects of the weed as he sucked in the last of the smoke, and almost stumbled when he tried to stand. His eyelids grew heavy with the feeling of fatigue, though he didn't actually feel very tired at all.

"You okay?" he heard Nami ask, and nodded as he went to take his seat on the couch.

Nami gave him a look of concern as she stood up to take her turn, but Sanji didn't recognize it as he leaned down to take off his shoes. He pulled his legs up onto the sofa and laid out across it, feeling as though his whole body had fallen asleep, but his brain had forgotten to follow suit.

He heard Nami take her hit, and turned his head to look away from the ceiling to see that Zoro was staring at him. He flipped him the bird and then laid his arm across his stomach.

"So, hey, what's wrong with your car?" Nami asked, still sitting on the floor, and Sanji felt the slightest spark of envy when Zoro sat down beside her.

"The battery," he heard himself say, but his voice sounded as though it was coming from far away, and was not actually his own. "Died."

Nami giggled and elbowed Zoro, turning towards him to whisper, "Oh my god, he's so high," into his ear.

Sanji's body felt both light and heavy all at once. He was aware that, if he wanted to, he could move any part of his body as easily as though it were submerged in water, but felt that if he tried, he wouldn't be able to. He wasn't sure if he appreciated the feeling.

"We could call Franky," he heard Nami say to Zoro, but he'd closed his eyes and didn't see whether or not the punk affirmed her thought. "I bet he could fix his car."

"I don't have a phone, remember?"

"Why not?" Sanji found himself mumbling, and though he didn't see it, both the punks had turned to look and snicker at him.

"Some crusty stole it at the last show I went to," Zoro explained, and Sanji found his consciousness slipping too fast to be able to ask what a crusty was.

"Oh," he said quietly, and then laid still.

The last thing Sanji heard before he fell asleep was the two of them exchanging bong hits, and the soft, low sounds of a bass guitar that he _swore_ was singing.


	6. Oceanographer's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'But then you came in, and we locked eyes  
> You kicked the ashtray over as we came toward each other  
> Stubbed my cigarette out against the west wall  
> Quickly lit another
> 
> Look at that, would you look at that?  
> We're throwing off sparks'

Though he was only asleep for about an hour, when Sanji woke up, he felt as though he'd been asleep for days.

Momentarily out of sorts, he continued to lie on the couch for a moment, attempting to regain a sense of place before he tried to sit up. His thoughts were disorganized and felt thick, as though they'd congealed into a soupy mass and were unable to maneuver through the thin passages inside his brain. Staring up at the ceiling, he attempted to navigate through them with little success.

Overwhelmingly groggy, he grunted and sat up, trying to make sense of the odd sensation circulating inside his head. It was like he had a headache, except his head didn't actually hurt; the absence of the pain still left his mind feeling like it was being compressed and impounded upon with either gauze or fuzz, and no matter how he rubbed at his forehead, it wouldn't clear. The sensation was unpleasant, leading Sanji to decide that if this was how smoking weed felt every time, he probably wouldn't do it again.

He shut his eyes and tried to clear his head, but the fuzzy, soupy feeling persistently remained. Sighing, he opened his eyes and immediately went to grab a cigarette, only to find that his pack and lighter had gone missing.

Confused, he patted down his pants pockets and even went through his coat, but all he found was an absence of his things. Setting his coat aside and aware now of his surroundings, he glanced around and saw that both Zoro and Nami had disappeared. The bong was still on the table, but when he turned in his seat to look into the kitchen, he saw that neither one of them were present in the immediate vicinity.

Rubbing his head to try and clear it once more, Sanji stood up, noticing that the bass was in its stand and Nami's boots were lined against the far wall, but Zoro's were gone.

"Hey," he mumbled, shuffling in his socks towards the short hall he'd seen Zoro go down earlier. He'd forgotten he'd taken his shoes off prior to falling asleep, and was almost taken by surprise at the way he slid across the floor. He caught himself and stopped at the halls entrance and blearily looked down its depths, wondering if his host and guest had retired into the back. "Anyone home?"

He waited by the entrance for a moment before turning away when he got no response. Unwilling to snoop into Zoro's private rooms, Sanji wandered into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water, hoping to rid himself of the cotton-mouth he'd woken up with. Smacking his lips lazily, he began to search through the cabinets to find where Zoro kept his cups, and found them stored on a high shelf.

The height was no challenge to Sanji, who helped himself to a plain green glass. When he turned around to access the tap, he was surprised to see the plate of food he'd brought sitting empty on the counter amidst other dirty dishes beside the sink.

Excited, he wondered what Zoro had thought of his cooking and brightened up considerably, thinking about how he wished he'd been awake to see him eat it.

Looking around the empty apartment again, he wondered where they might've gone. He really wanted to ask the punk's opinion of his cooking, but with the both of them gone, he was left only to speculate. He looked back down at the plate, and felt his old work habits begin to pester him. Zoro had a multitude of dirty dishes scattered around the sink, and Sanji knew that, if this were the Baratie's kitchen, this sort of thing would have gotten a chef fired instantly. A dirty workstation was unprofessional, after all.

Shrugging to himself, he glanced around for a sponge and some dish soap, figuring he'd pass the time constructively until the punks decided to show themselves.

He crouched down and opened the cabinet under the sink and saw an almost entirely unused bottle of Joy and a dried out old sponge sitting among various discarded grocery bags. Grabbing hold of them, he shut the cabinet and stood up, setting them aside on the countertop as he rolled up his sleeves and turned on the water.

As he waited for it to warm, he thought he heard Nami giggling, but couldn't pinpoint where he'd heard it from. He looked around what he could see of the apartment, but it was as devoid of other persons as it was when he'd last checked. Wondering again where they could have gone, and why they'd bothered to leave him alone, he set about washing Zoro's dishes.

He scrubbed the dishes as thoroughly as he would have if he were on the job. Each plate and bowl and piece of silverware that went under the water came out cleaner than Sanji thought they had probably ever been under Zoro's ownership. Popping open the dishwasher, he loaded the dishes he'd cleaned by hand into the racks one by one as he worked until the counter was cleanly rid of the mess. Satisfied with his job well done, he shut the dishwasher and turned off the tap, shaking his hands to dry them out before running them down the length of his pants.

At a loss as to what he should do now, he checked his phone to see if he had any new messages from Zeff, when he heard the sound of a door being opened from down the distant hallway. He heard Nami laugh as the door closed, and hurriedly put his phone away as she came out of the hallway.

"Sanji! I was just coming to see if you were up yet, come here, come on!" she said happily, and took him by the hand.

She began to lead him back down the way she'd come before, walking them past a closed door and then turned into what was apparently Zoro's bedroom. Sanji wasn't at all surprised to see how messy it was, but noticed that it was host to several other guitars besides the white one he'd known of, and a few amplifiers.

The punk's bedroom walls were covered with numerous other band posters, covering so much of the wall that hardly any of the original space could be seen between the cracks left between the posters. In addition, Zoro had several large banners and tapestries advertising anarchy and a general dislike of authority hanging around and down from the ceiling, coming down so low that they almost brushed the top of his head. Sanji paused to admire them all, scanning over each of them briefly before noticing the one banner that seemed to take priority over them all.

It was a very, very large tapestry of a jolly-roger wearing a straw hat that Zoro had hung above the headboard of his unmade bed. It was much larger than any of the others he had around, and almost looked hand-printed.

He wondered about its meaning as he stared at its broad, grinning face, just as he wondered why Nami had lead him into Zoro's bedroom. He was about to ask her about her motives when she let go of his hand and opened a door that was tucked along the left-hand side of the far wall. Sunlight spilled in from the opening, and Nami stepped through and gestured for Sanji to follow her.

Confused, he walked to join her and saw that Zoro was one of the few tenants who was gifted with an apartment that had an oddly placed balcony. He stepped out into the sun and looked down over the railing at what she was cheerfully gesturing at, and saw Zoro sitting in the driver's seat of his car with a blue-haired bodybuilder fiddling with his engine under the hood.

"Hey! Look who's up!" Nami called down to them, and they both turned to look up at him, making Sanji feel suddenly embarrassed.

The blue-haired man waved at him enthusiastically, but Zoro just looked bored. He'd left the driver's side door open with the window rolled down, and sat at an angle so that his feet were propped up using the opening. He twitched one of his booted feet at him in greeting before closing his eyes.

"How'd they get in my car?" Sanji asked when they'd looked away, and Nami gave him a catty grin and a wink.

"I borrowed your keys from you while you were sleeping," she explained, dropping to sit in one of the two lawn chairs that were set up on the deck. "That guy down there is Franky, he owns the store Zoro and I work at, but likes to work on cars in his free time. We called and asked him to come over."

"So what's he doing to mine?"

"Fixing it, hopefully."

Sanji peeked over the railing again to get a better look at whatever it was Franky was doing, but from four floors up, couldn't see much of what he was working on. When he looked back at Nami, he saw that, in addition to having swiped his keys earlier, she'd also nabbed his cigarettes and lighter. She popped one out of the pack and placed it in her mouth before lighting it, giving Sanji another wink as she passed his things back to him.

"Sorry," she said, inhaling and exhaling slowly. "It's a bad habit."

Sanji immediately forgave her.

"It's alright, my darling; I could never be angry with you."

She giggled cutely, and he felt his heart flutter. Following her example, he sat down in the other fold-out chair that was set up and took a cigarette out to smoke with her.

The outside air was refreshing and cool, and Sanji thought that it felt nice to be sitting in the sun with a girl as beautiful as Nami. They sat smoking in silence, listening to the slight murmurings of Zoro and Franky below as they worked on his car. Occasionally, one of them would try the engine, but each time they tried, they were met with the same failed results Sanji had gotten Saturday morning. The car would sound hopeful for a brief moment, and then gag and roll over. Sanji couldn't say he was surprised by this, but hoped that, by some miracle, Franky would be able to solve his car troubles before he actually needed to go somewhere.

"So," Nami said, breaking the silence as she leaned down to stub out her cigarette on the balcony flooring. "How'd you like getting high with us?"

Sanji sat contemplating how best to answer her question without offending her.

"I don't think it's for me," he said slowly, taking a long drag off his cigarette. When he exhaled, he saw her nod along to what he'd said.

"I really wish we hadn't used the gravity bong," Nami said, and then sighed. "It's really overwhelming for newbies, so I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be! It's not your fault, I've had a good time with you regardless."

She smiled at him, giving him a curious look of approval when she cocked her head and leaned forward to stare into his eye. Sanji sat still as she looked.

"Wow, your eyes are totally shot," she said, standing upright with her hands on her hips.

"Are they?"

"Yeah, come on, we got some stuff for that."

Sanji stubbed out his cigarette and pocketed the butt before standing up and following after Nami, who opened the balcony door and stepped back inside.

He shut the door behind him as he followed her back into Zoro's disorganized bedroom, and joined her in the hall as she stood in front of the closed door they'd passed earlier. She seemed to hesitate with her hand on the handle, and bit her lip as she turned around to face Sanji.

"Have you met Chopper?" she asked slowly.

Frowning slightly, Sanji answered, saying, "Er, kind of. I saw him with Zoro this morning."

"How was he?"

"He tried to eat me." Nami paused and sighed, and then turned back around.

"Chopper's a baby," she said, finally opening the door. "He only acts mean because he's afraid."

She stepped inside, and Sanji noticed that the room already had the lights turned on. He followed after her, wondering why she'd made mention of the dog when they were in the bathroom, when he saw him.

Chopper and Sanji's eyes met at the same time, and the dog immediately rose up from his position of rest inside his crate to growl lowly in his direction. Sanji froze, but Nami looked cross and stood between them.

"Chopper,  _no_ ," she said firmly, and to Sanji's surprise, the dog's demeanor changed completely.

He whined pitifully, still looking angrily in Sanji's direction, but sat down at Nami's direction. His hackles were still ruffled and raised, but he remained silent when Nami gestured for Sanji to come closer.

"I know he looks really big and mean, but he's honestly a huge baby when you get to know him," Nami explained apologetically as they stood in front of the sink counter.

"I believe you," Sanji said, but wasn't sure he meant it.

She smiled at him and then began to go through the drawers that lined the front of the counter. Sanji stared at himself in the large mirror and leaned forward to inspect his eyes. He ignored the stickers that Zoro had haphazardly slapped across the surface, and saw that, true to Nami's words, his eyes were incredibly bloodshot. He frowned and leaned back, looking around the small bathroom as Nami kept looking for what he assumed were eyedrops.

Usopp must have been a very prolific artist, for in addition to the other prints scattered around the apartment, Zoro had even hung a few in the bathroom. Sanji really admired his use of line and minimal colouring, and was so caught up in appreciating the prints that he hadn't heard Nami's victorious 'Ah-ha!' of discovery until after she'd tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh! Thank you Nami, you are incredible!"

"Two drops in each eye should clear them up," she said, smirking as she gave him the small bottle of drops.

She watched him unscrew the cap as she hoisted herself up to sit on the sink's counter, and glanced over to the art print she'd seen him staring at.

As he began to apply the drops to his eyes, she asked, "So, you like Usopp's work?"

"Yeah," Sanji replied, distracted. "He's very talented."

Nami nodded.

"He's having an art show this Wednesday; you should get Zoro to take you."

"And you, my darling?" he asked, blinking his eyes rapidly against the droplets as he applied them. "Will you be there as well?"

"I got banned from going," she said with a sad sigh and a shake of her head. "I  _borrowed_ a piece of art and they totally over-reacted. But I didn't like going anyway, it's super skeevy."

"Skeevy? How?"

Sanji set the eyedrops on the counter when he was done with them and turned his head to focus on Nami, who appeared thoughtful.

"Well, no one can figure out if they're actually legal or not," she explained. "The people who organize the shows, Baroque Works, are some kind of super underground art movement. Usopp is actually scared shitless to exhibit with them, so he gets Zoro to go with him and pose as his bodyguard."

"Huh," Sanji said, frowning. Nami hopped off the counter and crouched down to stick her hand through the bars of Chopper's crate to pet him.

"Yeah, skeevy, like I said; but it's also pretty fun. You have to dress up really fancy, but Usopp's so afraid of them, he goes dressed up as 'Sogeking' so they can't figure out who he really is. It's hilarious; he's got this super extravagant costume he wears around with this ridiculous mask, and Zoro goes dressed up like Sid Vicious in My Way. He's such a punk; they can't get him to dress any better than that, but I bet Usopp'd really like it if you went along with Zoro as his second body-guard."

"I'll certainly think about it, my darling," Sanji said, to which Nami smiled and stood up, withdrawing her hand from Chopper's crate.

"Let's go check on the boys," she said, and Sanji nodded as they both left the bathroom, shutting the door behind them as they navigated back through Zoro's bedroom and onto the balcony.

Peering over the ledge, they saw neither Franky nor Zoro; the hood of Sanji's car was shut and the driver's side door was closed, and neither one of them was within eyesight. Frowning, Sanji hoped they'd had the grace to lock the doors when Nami turned and went back inside as the sound of the front door being opened reached them.

After she'd left, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the spent cigarette butt. He flicked it over the edge of the railing before following after her, making sure to shut the door behind him. He could hear Nami and Zoro talking, and as he came out of the hall, saw them standing by the front door.

"So, did he fix it?" Sanji asked, to which Zoro looked at him and shook his head.

"Nah, he said you drained the battery beyond saving, so he went out to get a new one."

"Oh."

Zoro continued to look at him contemplatively before Nami drew his attention away.

"Sanji wants to go with you to see Usopp's show Wednesday," she said, shooting Sanji a secretive wink as Zoro frowned and shook his head. "I'll waive Wado's fee if you do," she sang lightly, and Zoro groaned.

"You don't have to-" Sanji began to interject, but it seemed as though Nami had already won.

"Fine," Zoro said around a sigh, moving past them both to take his boots off by the wall. He turned to give them both a mean look before he walked into the kitchen, leaving Nami to shrug at Sanji.

"I have to be going soon," she said. "I really didn't plan on staying so long, Nojiko's really gonna chew me out when I get back. I was only supposed to drop Chopper's food off, then head back to help her with the oranges."

She winced, already imagining the lecture she was sure to get. Sanji was about to ask her who Nojiko was, when Zoro came out of the kitchen holding the undrunk glass of water and a look of confusion on his face.

"Did one of you do my dishes?" he asked, looking incredulously at the two of them.

"No," Nami answered, moving towards where her boots were to put them on. "I wouldn't touch them with your own hands, let alone my own."

Zoro leered at her briefly before he turned his gaze to Sanji, who felt embarrassed again as he tried to shrug it off as something casual.

"Work habit," he said in response, stuffing his hands into his pockets as though it'd help him avoid scrutiny. "I can't stand to see a dirty kitchen."

Zoro still looked surprised, but ended up with an expression of respect as he took a sip of water.

"So you're leaving?" he asked Nami, turning away from Sanji to watch her as she walked past him into the kitchen to collect her cooler.

"Yeah, Nojiko's going to be pissed," she said as she hefted it in her arms and walked back to stand in front of Sanji. "It was nice meeting you; I'll see you around!"

Sanji beamed at her.

"Likewise, it was a marvelous, life-changing event for me to have met you here today! I will keep you in my thoughts, always!"

He could hear Zoro groan at his comment and turned to glare at him before opening the door for Nami. She stepped through it, and gave him one last smile before a look of remembrance dawned on her face.

"Don't forget you have hockey practice tonight," she said, leaning back inside to yell and give Zoro a stern look. "If you forget again you're gonna get cut from the team."

"Yeah, yeah, I won't forget," Zoro grumbled, to which Nami huffed and then did finally depart.

Sanji blew a kiss after her and shut the door. He stared at it blankly for a moment before realizing that he was alone now with Zoro, who he could feel staring at him from the kitchen.

"I think I should be going too," he said, turning around to see Zoro shrug.

"If you don't want to wait on Franky, that's fine by me."

"Shit," Sanji said, having forgotten about him.

"I don't care if you wait around, either, though." Sanji heard him open his fridge, and the sound of bottles clanking peaked his interest. He ventured into the kitchen to find Zoro holding two bottles of beer, and held one out to Sanji, who took it.

"For washing my dishes," Zoro said with a shrug. He pulled a magnetic bottle opener off the front of the refrigerator and opened his own bottle before then passed it on to Sanji.

Relaxing back against the countertop, Sanji popped the top off his beer. He took a starting sip as his elbow slid back and rustled the discarded saran wrap he'd brought his food with. He sat up, remembering that he'd wanted to ask Zoro's opinion on his cooking.

"How'd you like it?" he asked. "The food I brought, I mean," he clarified when Zoro looked blank.

Zoro paused and glanced away, looking to Sanji as though he were thinking up a grand way to describe the cooking he'd eaten. Of course, anything Zoro said, Sanji knew to be true; his cooking was his pride, and he knew it's quality was beyond superior. So it came as a shock to him when Zoro shrugged again, and simply said, "It was okay."

"' _Okay'?_ " Sanji repeated, baffled. Zoro nodded and took another drink. " _Just_ 'okay'?!"

"Yeah," Zoro said slowly, recognizing a fight slowly brewing in the depths of Sanji's one visible eye. "I liked it; it was okay."

Sanji's grasp over the bottle of beer tightened as he tried to keep himself calm.

"My cooking is not just  _'okay'_ , okay? It's mind-blowingly  _delicious_ ; it's melt-in-your-mouth  _wonderful;_ it's panty-dropping  _amazing!_ What it's  _not,_ is just 'okay'!" he exclaimed, bristling as he defended his practice.

To his immense hatred, Zoro shrugged, only saying "Okay", in response.

They stood staring at one another angrily in the middle of the kitchen, each of them waiting for the other to make a move. Sanji silently assessed their surroundings, noting that it wasn't optimal for any sort of a fight that might break out between them. Zoro's stance appeared calm, but Sanji could sense the tension building in him as they continued their stand-off.

"You really piss me off," Sanji said, relenting his anger in a long, drawn-out sigh. He drank deeply from his beer as Zoro snorted and rolled his eyes, relaxing.

"I'm not in the business of making friends," he retorted, even as they both moved out of the kitchen and into the living room.

"Clearly," Sanji said as Zoro turned on the television.

Their disagreement with one another was put on pause as they each sat down on the couch, mindlessly passing time as they waited for Franky to return with a new battery for Sanji's car.


	7. Nine Million Rainy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I'm being dragged from here to Hell  
> And all my time in Hell  
> is spent with you.'

"So, you're on a hockey team?" Sanji asked slowly, mindfully taking slow drinks of his beer. "I thought you punk types were against organized shit."

Zoro rolled his eyes and frowned as he finished his fourth beer, setting the empty bottle down amidst the others on the coffee table. Sanji was admittedly surprised at his ability to drink so much in such a short span of time, and was almost jealous at how Zoro didn't even seem to be drunk in the slightest. Sanji was on his second beer and already seemed to be getting tipsy, which led him to believe that the punk was probably an alcoholic.

"I'm against organized  _government_ , not organized sports teams, idiot."

"Aren't they the same sort of thing though? A leader bossing his subordinates around? 'You there, little government man, listen to what I, big government say', as opposed to 'I, big hockey man, tell you, little hockey man, where to hit the puck'?" Sanji couldn't help but take on a mocking tone as he spoke, and recoiled when Zoro stood up and brushed past him roughly, punching him hard on the knee as he went. Sanji kicked after him as he walked into the kitchen to get another drink and smirked at the way he stumbled and almost fell.

"Fucker, it's not like that at all," Zoro said dismissively as he regained his footing, to which Sanji snorted.

"So how's it different?"

"Christ." Sanji heard him mumble as he opened and shut the fridge roughly. Instead of coming back around to sit down with him on the sofa, Zoro stood staring angrily at him from around the tall kitchen counter. "It just is, shit-head. I wouldn't expected a stupid bastard like you to understand the difference between  _sports_ and  _authority_."

"Right, because insulting the intelligence of the guy calling something problematic out totally doesn't make you look like a moron who can't back up his argument,  _or_ like the kind of people said moron resents by being anti-fascist." Sanji reclined back against the sofa and propped his feet up on the adjacent coffee table, being mindful not to kick the empty bottles or the bong over. He could practically hear Zoro wordlessly fuming as he came back into the living room, so that when Sanji looked up, grinning cheekily, he saw that the punk was standing and staring at him pointedly.

"You wanna tussle, fucky?" he eventually growled.

"In here? No," Sanji commented lazily, casting Zoro a confident look as he set his beer down on the table and stood up. "Outside? Sure."

Despite the angry look on Zoro's face, Sanji recognized a sense of approval written underneath his furrowed eyebrows. The green-haired punk chugged the rest of his drink and then set it aside as he walked to the door, opening it and then stepping out.

"Oi, at least let me put my shoes on!" Sanji shouted as he hurriedly began to pull them on. He could hear Zoro loudly making his way down the stairs, and grit his teeth at the man's ability to be a complete and total yob.

He ignored his tipsy feeling as he followed Zoro out the door and down the four flights of stairs. The air outside had changed drastically since he'd earlier been outside with Nami, and he couldn't help the shiver that overcame him as a wet wind blew by. When he finally made it down to the ground floor and strolled out of the breezeway, he noticed that big, dark rain clouds had begun to amass overhead.

Glancing around for Zoro, Sanji saw him standing near Franky, who'd returned with the new car battery. One look at the punk and Sanji could see that the fight had gone out of him, as he now stood directing his anger upwards.

"That bitch," Zoro mumbled darkly as Sanji came closer, casting an irritated look to the slowly darkening sky. "Could've warned me it was going to rain."

The heavy grey clouds rewarded his irritability by spattering him with a few drops of pre-mature rain, causing Zoro to scrunch his face up and look away towards where Franky was working.

The hood of the small yellow hatchback was raised so the large man could work, but even still, Franky seemed cramped under the limited space, though he didn't seem to mind. What he  _did_ seem to mind, though, was how cold it was becoming, as the air around them was chilled and damp, making Sanji wish he'd worn his coat. Franky looked uncomfortable in his tight hot pants and was constantly shivering despite wearing a denim jacket that was thickly lined with wool. Sanji might've laughed at him if he'd known Franky better, but decided not to while he glanced at the clouds with little interest as they began to sprinkle the earth with a light rain.

"What's wrong with the rain?" he finally asked, facing Zoro.

"I can't ride in the rain," he remarked slowly, scowling fiercely and looking towards where his motorcycle was parked across the lot. "How the fuck she expects me to get to practice in the rain, I have no idea."

They lapsed into silence as the sound of thunder rumbling vaguely in the distance caught up to them. Zoro turned the collar of his denim vest up against the wind and angrily began to button it shut. The wind caught in his makeshift earrings, making the safety-pins dangle loosely in such an alluring way that Sanji found his eye drawn to them.

"Sounds like you need a ride," he said casually, watching as they twisted and collided with themselves, creating slight, tinkling noises that were mostly lost in the wind. Zoro turned, drawing Sanji's attention away from the pins as he found himself the subject of an odd and irate look.

"You offering?"

Sanji shrugged while Franky replaced the car's battery. He reached his hand into his pants pocket to pluck out and light a cigarette, covering the end with his hands carefully to cover the cherry as the wind and rain threatened to extinguish it.

"No, I was just saying that's what you sound like," he said after a moment, carelessly blowing smoke in Zoro's direction.

"Fucker," Zoro snarled, shoving his hands angrily into the pockets of his vest, drawing it tight across his body as Sanji grinned. "Even after I gave  _you_ a ride."

"Just take the bus, man," Franky mumbled distractedly as he hurriedly tried to install the new battery before the downpour began.

"It doesn't run that far."

Franky shrugged and then eventually stood upright with a completed look on his face. He clapped his hands together and then shut the hood, turning towards Sanji and giving him a broad grin and a thumbs up. "Your car should run super now, bro! Here, give her a try."

Sanji was surprised to see Franky pull his car keys out of his jacket pocket, and scolded himself for letting an almost stranger have complete and total access to his car. He didn't know these people; Franky could've easily stolen his car while he'd been getting stoned and high, and Sanji would've been completely unaware.

He took back his keys and hesitantly went for the driver's side door, trying to cast his mistrust of the punks away. Not typically a man of prayer, Sanji found himself wishing and hoping to whoever might be listening to  _please, God, let it work._

The door was unlocked when he went to open it, so he sidled into the seat and slipped the key into the ignition and then glanced out the windshield. Franky was giving him a huge grin and popped another thumbs up while the wind tousled his ridiculously bright blue hair around, completely throwing it out of whatever groom the man had had it in. Zoro looked remarkably uncomfortable, standing stiffly in place in attempts to stifle a shiver with his mouth drawn into a tight, thin, unsupportive line.

' _Well, here goes,'_ he thought as he shut his eyes and twisted the key.

At first it sounded as though it wasn't going to go through, but after a few moments of nothing, Sanji's car finally came alive.

"It worked!" he exclaimed, looking genuinely surprised as he glanced up to meet Franky's eyes.

"Suuuuuuuuper! I knew it would! Oh yeah!"

He began to do a victory dance that consisted of a series of thrusts aimed at Zoro, who quickly moved away from them. Sanji cut the engine and excitedly stuffed his keys into his pocket, making sure to lock the door as he exited the vehicle.

"I really appreciate it," Sanji said, walking towards where Franky was dancing to reach out and shake his hand.

Franky paused in his dancing to study him for a moment, then grabbed his hand to pull him into the tightest, most uncomfortable hug Sanji had ever experienced in his life. He grunted in surprise as he heard and felt his back snap, and groaned when he heard Zoro laugh.

"Any time! Any friend of Zoro's is a friend of-"

"We're not- we're not friends!" Sanji wheezed, trying to pull himself out of Franky's painful grasp.

"What, really?" Confused, Franky released Sanji, who nearly fell to his knees as he gasped for air. "Why'd you have me come fix his car then, bro?"

The amusement Zoro had expressed at Sanji's discomfort slowly faded into an expression of annoyance as he pondered Franky's question. Instead of answering, though, he turned around and walked back into the breezeway, where Franky and Sanji could hear him ascending the stairs.

"Ah, should've known," Franky said, grinning to himself and shaking his head.

"Known what?" Sanji asked, grunting as he attempted to stretch out the kink in his back.

"Zoro's just nice like that. He tries to be this real big mean tough punk, but, man, you've seen how he is."

Sighing, Sanji took a deep drag of his cigarette while Franky laughed idly.

"I don't know about that," he said, mumbling lowly around his cigarette. From what he'd seen so far, Zoro was nothing more than an idiot with nice friends who let him call in favours. "What do I owe you for all this?"

Franky stopped laughing to consider the question, even as the wind began to pick up even more. His hawaiian shirt unbuttoned itself and began to flutter madly in the breeze, offering Sanji a sight of the man's overly toned body. Sanji carefully averted his gaze as Franky scratched at one of his sideburns contemplatively, and then alternated to scratch at the other, looking deep in thought before an idea struck him and his face lit up.

"I'll call it even if you give Zoro a ride to his practice tonight, alright?"

Sanji's couldn't help but let his shoulders drop as he slumped; just when he'd thought he was done socializing with the punk, something else just  _had_ to draw him back into his company. If Franky noticed he looked unwilling, he ignored it until Sanji sighed again and relented.

"I'll see what I can do," he said, tensing up when he saw that Franky was about to go in for another hug of gratitude.

He quickly sidestepped the big man, who turned with him and ended up clapping him harshly on the back.

"Super! I knew you were a cool guy! Zoro'll appreciate it!"

"Great," Sanji said, trying his damndest to stay standing as Franky's heavy hand insisted on trying to push him over into a puddle. His cigarette slipped from his lips and onto the wet sidewalk, frustrating him.

From the stairway they could hear Zoro returning as his boots loudly echoed off the buildings walls. He stepped out of the breezeway with a beer in hand and a large sort of covering Sanji assumed was meant for his bike.

"Oi, Zoro!" Franky called as Zoro began to walk across the parking lot towards where his motorcycle was parked. He paused and looked back at the both of them, taking a drink of his beer. "Quit drinking! You're going to practice; Sanji said he'd take ya!"

Zoro didn't move for a moment, and then, to Sanji's amusement, he began to chug the beer. He titled it back and swallowed all of it down in a quick few seconds before giving Franky and Sanji the middle finger.

"Super," Franky repeated with a smile and a laugh as Zoro began to cover his motorcycle. He gave Sanji's back one last slam before he stepped off the sidewalk to return to the muscle car he'd arrived in. "If you have any other car troubles, bro, don't hesitate to ring me up!"

"Will do," Sanji said sourly, stepping back into the breezeway to avoid getting rained on further, although by now he figured it wouldn't help much.

Waving Franky off, Sanji stood by the stairs to wait for Zoro to return. Cold and wet, he shivered in place as the wind rushed past him. He cursed, wishing he hadn't left his coat in Zoro's apartment when the punk finally came back.

His usually spiked hair had fallen flat from the rain, and he looked about as irritated and cold as Sanji felt.

"When's your practice?" Sanji asked, holding his arms together tightly across his chest to keep warm.

"6:30," Zoro replied through chattering teeth, holding the same position.

Sanji pulled out his cellphone to check the time and had to wipe away the moisture that had accumulated across the screen to read it.

"That's in an hour," he said, pocketing his phone again to squint at Zoro. "Where the hell is it that the bus doesn't run?"

"It's the skateway in Bighorn."

"Shit," Sanji said, glowering. "All the way in  _Bighorn?_ We'd better leave now, then."

Zoro narrowed his eyes but seemed to agree. He stood still, rubbing his hands over his bare arms before he wordlessly began to ascend the stairs.

"Where the fuck-" Sanji started, but was interrupted.

"I gotta get my gear and change, shithead. Not wearing wet clothes to an  _ice_ rink. I'll meet you back down here in 10."

Zoro continued up the steps as Sanji thought about what he'd said. Feeling the damp fabric of his thin, button-up shirt clinging to his skin made him uncomfortably cold, and as the wind brought in a gust of rain, he quickly decided that Zoro had the right idea and let himself into his own apartment to change.

He disrobed himself of the shirt he'd been wearing as soon as the door shut behind him and rubbed his arms fervently to warm them. He strolled into his bedroom and began to look through his closet, wondering if he had anything warm enough to wear to an ice rink when he found a thick, plain black cotton long-sleeved shirt and threw it on, almost sighing in pleasure when it immediately encapsulated him in warmth.

He did sigh when he remembered he'd have to brave the outside rain again, and braced himself for that eventuality. Coming out of his bedroom, he waited by the front door until he could hear Zoro coming down the stairs to meet him. He opened the door to find that he'd been about to knock on it, and they both paused at the awkwardness it introduced before the punk put his hand down and then shoved Sanji's coat at him.

"I thought about keeping it," Zoro said as he adjusted the strap of the duffel bag he was carrying across his chest and the leather jacket he'd changed into. "Then I realized I didn't want something so shitty stinking up my apartment."

"Well fuck you," Sanji snarled as he put his coat on and then turned to lock his apartment.

Zoro snickered at him as they rushed out to his car, neither one of them willing to linger long in the cold rain. Sanji only unlocked his door, though, and quickly slipped inside, shutting it after himself and then turning the car on. Zoro knocked hard on the passenger's side window, a foul look of annoyance drawn across his features as the rain pelted down upon him. Sanji couldn't help but smirk at him from inside his car as he adjusted the air-conditioning to something warm.

He let Zoro squirm and fuss outside as he turned the windshield wipers on and then leaned over to unlock the other door. Zoro threw it open angrily and twisted his duffel bag around so it rested in his lap as he slammed the door shut and sat down in his seat.

"You mother fucker-" he began, leaning over the dividing center-piece to make an attempt at Sanji's life.

"Seatbelt, shithead," Sanji reminded in a chiding tone, laughing to himself as he watched Zoro furiously sit back and try to get the seatbelt to click into place.

"Fuck you," Zoro grumbled as he finally got settled, slouching lowly in his seat to accommodate for his sunken mood.

"And you know what the best part of all this is?" Sanji asked happily, turning around in his seat to back out of the parking spot, sparing a quick, happy glance at Zoro.

"What?" he mumbled in response, not quite feeling up to facing Sanji's elation directly.

"Now its  _your_ turn to owe  _me._ "

Sanji chuckled as he drove them out of the apartment complex, amused at the way Zoro was discovering new ways to slouch and slunk in his seat.

The ride to the skateway was slow and largely boring. The fastest speed Sanji's windshield wipers could go wasn't fast enough to keep up with the oncoming torrent of flooding rain, forcing him to drive at a slower pace than he was accustomed to. This in turn had Zoro complaining about how he was going to be late, and when Sanji told him to hey, shut the fuck up, I'm doing the best I can- Zoro began to criticise the fact that there was nothing good on the radio to listen to.

After they'd argued about the authenticity of pop music ( _"It's mass-produced garbage made to appeal to the masses; it has no substance!" "It doesn't need substance to be good." "Right, you just have to be able to dance to it." "You make that sound like a bad thing. Not everything has to be about pointing out what's wrong with the state of the world to be good." "That's just what the pop music industry wants you to think. Remain complicit; I don't care." "Then shut the fuck up.")_ , Sanji finally grew frustrated enough to turn the radio off, and with nothing left to complain about, Zoro kept quiet.

They managed to arrive at the skateway with 5 minutes to spare before his practice started. Exhausted from having argued with Zoro for so long, Sanji decided to wait out the practice by napping in his car. Zoro rushed inside with all his gear in tow, and Sanji allowed the sounds of the rain pattering down upon his car to lull him into a light, but easy sleep.

He was awoken some time later by Zoro noisily letting himself in, making Sanji snort and start as he tossed his duffel bag over his shoulder and into the backseat.

"That was quick," Sanji said around a yawn, stretching his arms out in what little space he had when Zoro's outstretched hand caught him off-guards. "Huh?"

"Let me borrow your phone."

"Why?" Sanji asked suspiciously, lowering his arms slowly.

"Because I don't have one and I need to make a call," Zoro said, rolling his eyes when Sanji refused. "Look, I'm not going to steal it; you're my ride home- I can't pocket it when I'm sitting  _right next to you_."

"You know you can buy pre-paid phones at Wal-Mart for cheap, right?" he said as he sat up, raising his hips as he attempted to weasel his phone from out of the tight confines of his jeans.

"I hate Wal-Mart," Zoro said impatiently, insistently making grabbing motions when Sanji began to take too long.

"Oh, right, I forgot punks are against the convenience of capitalism," Sanji drolled as he finally got his phone free and deposited it into Zoro's waiting hand.

"Fuck capitalism," the punk affirmed as he fumbled with the slight iPhone.

It was obvious watching him that Zoro had very little experience in working smart phones. After two failed attempts at unlocking the screen, Sanji rolled his eyes and grabbed it back from him to do it for him. He brought up the menu to make a phone call and then passed it back to Zoro, who looked none too grateful, but took it anyway.

"Sucks for you I need to stop by Wal-Mart on the way back anyway," Sanji said as Zoro struggled to input numbers. "Get a phone while we're there."

Zoro didn't respond as a tone dial began to emit from the phone. He held it to his ear as Sanji started the car and began to leave the skateway. The rain had stopped sometime while Zoro had been in practice, for which Sanji was pleased; it was hard to drive in the dark and the rain when your wipers barely wiped and your headlights were as weak as his seemed to be.

"Hey," Zoro said, causing Sanji to briefly look over at him before realizing he was on the phone. "I need to borrow some money."

Sanji could hear someone replying on the other end of the line, but the voice was so tinny and distant that he couldn't make out what they were saying.

"I fucking broke my stick."

Though Sanji was not the type to eavesdrop, he couldn't help but look over at him in confusion. How the hell had he managed that? Zoro gave him an angry side-look that told him to fuck off. With a roll of his eyes, Sanji tried not to listen in on Zoro's conversation anymore, and began to tune him out as he thought of where the nearest Wal-Mart might be.

He didn't have to think long about it, however, as a big, illuminated sign pointed out that a Wal-Mart was coming up at the next intersection. Switching into the turn lane, Sanji navigated his way towards the store while Zoro continued his conversation.

" _Yes_ , fine, whatever; I'll pay back whatever fucking bullshit interest you decide on." Zoro sighed and let his head thump against the cold glass of the window. Noticing now where they were, he sat up again and announced to whomever it was he was talking to that he had to go.

Hanging up, Zoro let out a long, drawn out sigh of frustration as he kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. He passed the phone back to Sanji, but when he didn't take it, let it rest on the center console until they'd parked.

"Broke your stick, huh," Sanji commented as he grabbed his phone and wiped it screen-down along his pants. "How'd you manage that?"

"None of your fucking business," Zoro snapped, though he honestly seemed more tired than angry. "Asshole teammate pissed me off."

They said nothing more to each other as they walked across the parking lot until they were under the overhang and about to enter the store. Zoro suddenly looked aware and stopped as the automatic doors opened, allowing Sanji inside with a spray of air. Sanji paused when he noticed the punk wasn't with him, and looked back at him to see that Zoro looked almost uncomfortable.

His lips were pulled down and his posture was stiff with uncertainty, but whatever it was keeping him from coming inside Sanji chalked up to him not wanting to sully whatever punk reputation he had by giving the chain retail store his business.

"What? Capitalism suddenly stricken you immobile?" he asked sarcastically.

"Something like that," Zoro said while shrugging and finally deciding to follow after Sanji. He kept his head low as they walked past the check-out counters and into the store.

It looked as though he was trying to remain inconspicuous, but the way he was walking with his shoulders hunched and most of his face hidden behind the lapel of his leather jacket he was intently holding up made him look incredibly suspicious.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sanji hissed, frowning when a few of the store associates began to notice them and Zoro's odd behaviour. "Knock it off, asshole."

"Now's probably the time where I tell you I've been banned from every Wal-Mart on the planet," Zoro mumbled, to which Sanji groaned.

"Every store? On the  _planet?_ Fuck," he said, dragging a hand down across his face in irritation as they quickly hurried down an aisle and away from the employees noticing them.. "Should've fuckin' guessed it."


	8. Everybody's Got Nice Stuff But Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'She's got eyes of deepest blue  
> He's got hair that's green  
> Everybody's got nice stuff but me  
> I wish I had the kind of cash  
> To make heads turn when I walk past  
> I wish I could live in luxury'

 

Skulking was not a word that Sanji could say he used very often. It wasn't a term he kept handy in his vocabulary or in his mind, but when he did think about it or see it used, he often referenced it with the mental image of a large, fearsome dog trying its best to be as inconspicuous as possible. As he thought about this, he felt it was appropriate enough to describe Zoro's current behaviour. He just wished he weren't being so damn obvious about it.

Sanji narrowed his eyes and glared hard at Zoro as he skulked his way into the young girls' toy aisle, immediately making himself stand out. The vast quantities of pink items lining the shelves brought direct focus to Zoro, who stood amongst them clad mostly in black, bringing about the opposite effect of what he was probably trying to achieve.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Sanji muttered under his breath, shaking his head irritably in pity for Zoro's idiocy before following after the punk. "You'd better tell me what the hell you got banned for before  _I_ get banned for being seen with you."

Instead of answering, Zoro dropped the collar of his coat and grabbed the closest doll off the shelf to look at. Sighing and rubbing his brow, Sanji huddled close to him as Zoro pretended to be thoroughly interested in the Monster High doll he'd picked. He turned the package over in his hands to read what features the Headless Headmistress came with, tempting Sanji to smack it away in order to get an answer.

Thus far, his line of questioning had netted him few answers. Every time he asked, Zoro pretended to see something of great interest and then proceeded to ignore Sanji until he'd looked it over. It'd happened all the while they attempted to stealthily make their way into a less populated part of the store, successfully having evaded any employee recognizing Zoro as they sought refuge in the toys section, where they now stood stuck with what to do next.

"What'd you come in here to get?" Zoro asked, shelving the doll disinterestedly and dismissing his question once again. "Food stuffs?"

"Food?"Sanji repeated incredulously, his face morphing into an expression of severe disbelief as his inquiry was forgotten. " _Food?!_ What kind of shitty chef do you take me for to buy my supplies from  _Wal-Mart_?!"

"The shitty kind," Zoro responded straight faced, but laughed when Sanji appeared about to rage. "Hey, you said it, not me," he said, holding his hands up defensively.

"Fuck you," Sanji spat, angrily shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from starting a fight. Derailed from finding out the details surrounding Zoro's ban, he sulked and glowered at all the pink-packaged dolls surrounding them until he'd decided he'd had enough. "Not that it's any of your business, but I came to get curtain rods."

"Curtain rods?" Zoro quirked his brow in question, but Sanji ignored it and made his way out of the aisle.

When he turned back around to see if Zoro was following, he snickered as he took in the sight of the punk standing amidst all the girls' toys. He was tempted to draw out his phone and snap a picture of him standing there in fierce contrast of all the traditionally female playthings, but thought better of it when he saw Zoro frown and start to follow after him.

"What was that look for?" he growled when he caught up, continuing his stealth antics by trying to hide behind the outstretched collar of his jacket.

"You look ridiculous."

"Is this the first time you've seen me? I'm a punk, I've looked worse." Zoro turned to sneer Billy Idol style at Sanji, who rolled his eyes and continued to lead them towards the technology center. "I  _thrive_ on looking bad; I've made a career out of it. Where the hell are we going?"

"Cellphone, remember?"

Zoro made an expression of discomfort as he tried to keep attention away from himself, though Sanji noticed that everyone they passed paused to stare at the punk's odd behaviour. Rolling his eyes, he decided not to comment on how 'effective' Zoro's technique was and kept himself focused on the task at hand.

No one was working the check-out counter when they arrived, for which they were both grateful. Not knowing the nature of Zoro's ban made Sanji anxious enough to want to keep away from the floor associates as long as they were in each other's company. Together they quickly skirted by the kids playing the demo consoles and avoided the check-out counter to try and find where the disposable cellphones were.

"I really don't need one," Zoro muttered with his head now stuffed so lowly behind the collar of his jacket he appeared almost headless himself. "Everyone knows they can get me by email."

"It's a shitty excuse not to have a phone and we're already here," Sanji whispered back, though he wasn't sure why they'd begun to speak so lowly.

Zoro grunted something in response as they ventured through the aisles, but Sanji ignored it. The noises the kids were making as they played through various demos distantly followed them as they kept up their search. Paying them no mind, Sanji led them along until he found what they were looking for in the back along the wall.

Feeling victorious, Sanji turned to Zoro with a smirk.

"Alright, moss-head; take your pick."

Snorting, Zoro turned to eye the merchandise disinterestedly. Momentarily freed from his duty, Sanji turned around to look out at the rest of the store to make sure no employees came near them while they were unaware. He longed for a cigarette as he gazed about, shoving his hand into his pocket to clutch his pack reassuringly when he noticed that the kids who were playing video games had all stopped. Frowning, he looked to where they were all staring and saw a large, angry-looking man skulking towards them.

"Oi, you might wanna hurry this up," Sanji said, keeping his eye on the man as he advanced on them. He wasn't wearing a Wal-Mart uniform, but Sanji could see that the guy was fixated on Zoro and did not look happy to see him.

"Hang on," Zoro said as he looked between the two phones he was trying to decide between in his hands. "If being friends with Nami has taught me anything, its to make sure I get my money's worth with this kind of shit."

Unable to tell whether or not he was being sarcastic, Sanji turned round to gauge Zoro's seriousness and found him sincerely reading over the pros and cons of each of the phones. Sighing, Sanji turned back to keep an eye on the man who'd been heading towards them, only to find that he had gone. He glanced around to see where he might have disappeared to, but as he surveyed the area, the large man was nowhere to be seen. The children that had drawn his attention to him in the first place had resumed playing their game, consoling Sanji enough to believe that the man had decided to leave them alone.

"Take your time then," he commented, watching the gamers play on the screens set up above the display shelves.

Zoro didn't speak for a while, leaving Sanji to mentally criticize the performance of the kids as they played, noting that whatever fighting game they were playing had incorrect martial arts form as they failed to pick up on the combos the series offered them.

"Hey, what's the difference between 3g and 4g?"

Sanji looked towards Zoro just as the punk looked to him and witnessed the exact moment the punk's face fell and his body dropped to the floor. The phones he'd been holding scattered across the ground, skittering past Sanji who stared down at Zoro's panicked form with total surprise and complete incomprehension.

"What the fuck-" he started to say, flabbergasted by Zoro's sudden urge to meld down with the floor.

"Shit, shit; get down," he hissed, tugging at Sanji's pants leg urgently, pleading with him to drop out of site.

"Fuck no, these are designer trousers." Sanji pulled his leg free from Zoro's insistent tugs irritably, scowling down at him disapprovingly. "What the fuck are you even doing?"

"I-"

Before Zoro could respond fully, his eyes widened in an 'oh shit, I've been caught' manner as a large shadow eclipsed the two of them. When Sanji turned around, he found himself face to chest with the large, angry looking man he'd spied earlier, and was dismayed to find that he looked no less angry than he had before.

"Zoro," the man growled, ignoring Sanji completely as he stepped by him and reached down to roughly grab Zoro by the back of his jacket and bring him to his feet. "Caught you red-handed, you shitty little punk."

Zoro came up swinging, throwing angry, sloppy punches that did him absolutely no good. The white-haired man scowled and easily deflected his throws, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him up into the air.

"Hey, hey," Sanji said, frowning at the two of them as he tried to intervene. "Knock it off!"

"Stay back," the man ordered, leering at Sanji as Zoro shrugged his arms out of the sleeves and slipped out of his jacket, dropping back to the floor. The bulky aggressor tossed his jacket away, baring his teeth.

"I didn't fucking do anything, Smoker, so leave me the fuck alone," Zoro demanded, taking on a fighting stance as the man named Smoker growled and grit his teeth in irritation.

"Didn't do anything my ass; you know you got a life-long ban here, right?"

Sanji watched the intense exchange unsure of whose side he was meant to take should things get rough. He'd only just barely come to know Zoro, and wasn't sure yet if he liked him enough to be able to take his side in a confrontation he knew next to nothing about.

Smoker and Zoro maintained heated eye contact, each daring the other to make the first move.

"So, what? Marine turned mall-cop gonna arrest me?" Zoro finally spat, narrowing his eyes. "Ain't got nothing better to do than bust my ass trying to play Wal-Mart guard dog?"

"Oh I'll bust your thieving ass alright," Smoker growled and made to aggressively grab hold of Zoro again.

"I didn't  _steal_ anything!" Zoro shouted, ducking out of Smoker's reach and dashing by him, retrieving his discarded leather jacket in the process.

When Smoker yelled out "Get back here!", Sanji realized Zoro wasn't going to stop and had effectively left him to deal with whoever the hell Smoker was. .

"Oi!" he called out, giving Smoker an unsure look before hurrying after the runaway punk.

He caught up easily as Zoro ran straight for the exit, dashing and darting past the other patrons and earning many disgruntled and surprised remarks about their rude behaviour. A loud, urgent message came over the Wal-Mart speakers that Sanji assumed was sent in by Smoker about them, but he couldn't make out what was being said as they ran out of the building and escaped into the parking lot.

Zoro nearly collided with several people pushing bulky carts slowly as he tried to evade them, leaving Sanji to breathe out a quick apology as he kept after him until they'd nearly collided with his car. Panting, but feeling strangely exhilarated, Sanji quickly withdrew his car keys and unlocked the doors, unaware of why exactly he was trying to get them away as fast as he could. As they piled in and got the car started, Sanji exchanged a bewildered glance at Zoro who was sat resting and breathing hard with his forehead pressed against the window.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked as he shook free of his stupor and began to back out of his spot. "Why did he think you were stealing?"

He heard Zoro exhale heavily as Sanji quickly sped them away.

"It's a long damn story," Zoro eventually said, sitting up and leaning back with his eyes closed.

"We're still in Bighorn; we got time," Sanji said, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on his brow.

Keeping his eyes trained on the road, he drove them in the direction of home through the dark, listening to Zoro's soft curses as he tried to figure out a good starting point to his tale.

"Alright," he eventually said, turning slightly towards Sanji in his seat. "You know how shitty high school kids can be, right? Always daring each other to do stupid things to try and boost their bad-ass rank or whatever?"

"Sure."

"That's where it started, man. Just these little dares we pulled on each other growing up, and, shit, I don't know, I guess it really stuck with Nami. We'd always dare her to steal shit from like, Goodwill or Spencers because she was good at it and liked it or whatever. Always little stuff though, like a key-chain or some crap magnet and she'd do it no problem."

Sanji spared him a look to see Zoro sigh and rub at his eyes tiredly. He took a pause to adjust the air conditioning vents so that they were facing him head on and sighed at the relief they brought him.

"And?"

"Well, like I said, it just kind of stuck with her," he said, shrugging. "She'd get us to dare her to steal bigger, harder shit, from stores with tighter security. DVDs from f.y.e and clothes from Hollister or wherever- anyway, we go to Wal-Mart, right, and she finally gets caught trying to smuggle out some CDs and other expensive crap.

"But instead of taking the fall herself, she somehow frames  _me_ for it and I end up spending the week in jail, getting off with a non-revocable life-ban from every Wal-Mart on the goddamn planet  _and_ owing her twice what she paid when she made my bail."

"I'm sure she had her reasons for doing so," Sanji said, trying diffuse the spiteful tone in Zoro's voice after he'd had a moment to process the story. "She seemed so nice when I met her, I find it hard to believe she had ill intentions when she allowed you to take the blame."

Scoffing loudly, Zoro crossed his arms and shook his head.

"You don't know her at all."

"Oh, but I'd sure like to," Sanji said wistfully, sighing and taking on a dreamy expression that Zoro had to snap him out of.

"Oi, oi, don't fantasize about her while you're driving, idiot; you're swerving, goddammit!"

After arguing for a while after, Zoro eventually fell asleep on the ride back to their apartment complex, leaving Sanji to drive along silently listening to the punk's soft snoring. He spent the time reflecting on their incident at Wal-Mart, and almost woke Zoro when he laughed at the realization that there was no way they'd have made it out without someone recognizing him; after all, they'd eventually had to have found an employee to ring them up and activate the phone for them.

Amused by the failed futility of it all, he found overall he was just relieved that he hadn't ended up with a ban of Zoro's magnitude, and though he really had wanted curtain rods for his bedroom, he figured they could wait until he had another chance to hit up the store on his own.

Upon making it back to their apartment, Sanji cut the engine and sat still in the parking lot for a moment, looking over to where Zoro was sat slumped against the door, sleeping in his seat. Certain that this wasn't how Zeff would be wanting him to spend his free time, Sanji couldn't help but feel excited at the future scenarios knowing Zoro would get him mixed up in next.

Sanji liked his life; he loved working at the Baratie, but his social life suffered deeply for it. He had no friends beyond the kitchen he slaved in, and his apartment was less of a home for him and more of a place to spend his time waiting to get back to work.

He was loathe to admit it, but he began to wonder if Zeff's forceful removal of him from work was beginning to do him some good after all.

Before he allowed himself to become too sentimental over the prospect of new friends wild enough to hold his interest, Sanji got out of the car and walked over to Zoro's side and opened the door. The punk spilled out onto the parking lot, looking far too sleepy and confused to be able to comprehend how he'd gone from sleeping in Sanji's car to laying out on the pavement.

"Rise and shine, shithead; this is why we wear our seatbelts."

Grumbling around a yawn, Zoro got to his feet and shoved Sanji halfheartedly in retaliation. He collected his things out of the front seat and then made his way into the building, wherein he began to slowly climb the stairs. Sanji locked his car and then retired into his own apartment, peeking out the window when he heard Zoro coming back down to give Chopper his evening walk.

He didn't spy on them for long, and eventually left the window to take his clothes off in the comfort of his room and climb into bed.

Yawning, he snorted when he heard Zoro stumbling back up the stairs with Chopper in tow, honestly wondering how they hadn't met sooner when they'd been living in the same building for so long.


	9. Anyone Can Play Guitar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Here we are with our running and confusion  
> And I don't see no confusion anywhere  
> And if the world does turn  
> And if London burns I'll be standing on the beach with my guitar  
> I wanna be in a band when I get to heaven  
> Anyone can play guitar  
> And they won't be a nothing anymore'

When Monday came around, Sanji found himself at a loss with what he was supposed to do. He'd half expected Zoro to either send him an e-mail asking him to hang out or for the oaf to drop by on his own while on his way to work to harass him, but when the day came and went without a single word or irritating action from the punk, he became confused, and then became confused as to why he felt confused.

They weren't friends, and only became acquaintances through awkward and forced interaction. Still, being brushed off so completely left him feeling abandoned, and he wasn't sure why he felt he should feel that way exactly. Just the other day he'd been wishing for contact with Zoro to come to an end, and yet today he found himself wondering why his wish had come true.

He kept an ear out to listen for when Zoro came and went, but even though he heard him loudly coming and going, Sanji didn't make a move to engage him in the stairwell. He wasn't sure what he even wanted to say to him, and wasn't sure when Chopper was or wasn't with him and certainly didn't want to cause a scene involving the monstrous dog.

Confused, (and still confused about that), he spent the day cooking and smoking and watching tv alone. If Usopp's art show was Wednesday, and Zoro had promised to take him along, then surely the punk would at least  _try_ to contact him by Tuesday to work out the details. The man was an idiot, but surely he wasn't stupid enough to think that Sanji was some kind of a mind-reader who could anticipate what was expected of him. Hell, Sanji didn't even know where the gallery  _was_ , and he sure as shit wasn't going to be pleased with him if Zoro came down to get him with only a four minute warning before they were wanted at the show.

With this logic in mind, he relented himself to sleep and waited to see what Tuesday brought him, though it became increasingly clear to him as he made himself breakfast that morning that Zoro wasn't going to initiate anything with him if he didn't have to, and maybe,  _just maybe_ , he really was that dull. Scowling down fiercely into his plate of pancakes, Sanji wished he'd gotten Nami's number when he'd had the chance. If Zoro wasn't going to follow up on his promise by giving him details about what they were meant to do tomorrow, Sanji bet Nami at least would give him the specifics.

As he ate, he noted that his mood was interfering with what should have been a very sweet breakfast, but was instead leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He rolled his eyes, admiring how much Zoro was able to piss him off without even having to be around to do it. As he spread some syrup over his pancakes, he put his troubles with Zoro aside and tried to enjoy his own cooking before the punk could completely ruin his morning.

After he'd finished eating and cleaned his station, he continued the rest of his morning routine to bathe and shave and dress himself for the day, though as he stood before the bathroom mirror- adjusting his tie and appreciating his form- he gradually came to realize he had nowhere to go.

He was still becoming used to the idea that he no longer had to go to work, and became annoyed that there was nowhere he was needed so the could show himself off. Feeling that this was all somehow Zoro's fault (even though it was rightly all Zeff's), Sanji grabbed his coat and cigarettes and stepped outside for a smoke.

The rain that had afflicted the area over the last couple days had finally passed by, but the weather was still dreadfully chilled. The clouds remained cluttered and grey in the sky, and held in the unpleasantness the rain had brought with it. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he looked around for one of his usual smoking partners but found himself alone with the threatening atmosphere. He pulled out his pack regardless and withdrew a cigarette that he then struggled to to get lit in the wind, and while he stood there, he wondered if he was going to spend his day as productively as he'd spent the last.

Finally having won the battle to light his cigarette, he bared his teeth at the wind and tried to enjoy his smoke as best he could given the circumstances. Alone, time that usually passed by quickly for him when shared with other smokers seemed to drag now. He quickly became bored, but had no desire to stub his cigarette out early now that he'd gone through all the hassle of trying to light it.

Slipping his pack back into his pocket, his hand brushed up against his phone, igniting an interest within him. Deciding it might be worthwhile to check, he withdrew it to see if he'd either received some word from Zoro or an apology from Zeff, but found himself the recipient of neither.

Unlocking the screen, he navigated to his email window anyway and refreshed it, hoping to see some new message that his phone had failed to alert him to. There was nothing new amidst the filtered inbox, causing his mood to descend further into annoyed territory that made his eyebrow twitch. He even checked through his spam folder, but didn't see Zoro's name anywhere between the emails advertising free viagra and other genital aids.

Huffing angrily on his cigarette, Sanji brought up the window to compose a new email and addressed it to Zoro's ridiculous address, but paused when he got to the subject line and the message body boxes, wondering what exactly it was he wanted to say. Blowing out smoke through his nostrils, he was about to put his phone away when an idea struck him that would both alleviate him of his boredom and give him an excuse to talk to Zoro face to face.

He left the subject line blank as he typed out, 'where do you work?', and hit send. Satisfied, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and remained standing outside alone until he'd finished his smoke.

When he went back inside, he checked his phone again to see if Zoro had a reply, but saw nothing as he took his coat off and hung it on the coatrack by the door. Anticipation built up within him as he waited for Zoro to reply, though he wouldn't get one until thirty minutes later. When his phone finally buzzed with the response, he excitedly checked but quickly found himself disappointed when he read Zoro's curt answer.

'dont even think about it'

"Well, I am," he said to himself lamely in retort.

He stared down at the message and made several attempts at creating a suitable reply to send back that would illustrate why exactly they needed to talk, but found that any excuse to meet Zoro at his place of employment that he tried to come up with seemed faked and awkward, and so he left it alone. Dejected, he dropped onto his sofa and tossed his phone onto the cushion at the other end, almost missing the way the screen lit up to alert him to a new message.

Sanji looked at it crossly and let out a loud, exaggerated sigh as he leaned over to grab and check it. He stayed stretched belly down on the couch as he saw that he'd gotten another message from Zoro.

Wondering what insult the bastard had forgotten to add on to his reply, he pulled open the email and was surprised to see that the message was from Nami instead.

'We work at Super-Star! Guitars downtown. Google it; there's directions to the store on the website.

And bring us some lunch! Zoro wouldn't share your food last time, and it smelled delicious! I'd love to try some :p

(heart) Nami'

Her voice read the message to him three times over in his mind as his eyes scanned over each line of text. Elated, he swooned and rolled off the sofa, hearts in his eyes as he landed on the floor, clutching the phone tightly to his chest like the lovestruck fool he felt he was. She wanted to see him, even if Zoro didn't! Oh, her beauty and kindness knew no bounds. His mood elevated him off the floor, and he all but floated into the kitchen as he set about preparing meals to bring along with him, as per Nami's request.

Still spurned by Zoro's comment of how his cooking had been just 'okay' the last time he'd shared it with him, he created a boring, chilled meat sandwich for the tasteless bassist and was then left wondering what sort of food would impress the gracious Nami.

Mentally stocked with the Baratie's entire menu, he tried to pick something off of it that would be quick to make and suit her tastes, even though he knew absolutely nothing in terms of what she liked to eat and what she didn't. Not knowing her on a personal level made making decisions about what to make for her difficult, and as he looked around his kitchen for ideas, his eye landed on a piece of fruit he thought she may have made mention of the other day.

"A-ha!" he exclaimed, picking up the orange he'd found and set about creating a simple, yet elegant, tasteful fruit salad he was certain Nami would appreciate.

While he pulled up directions to the store on his phone, he packed the lunches and some disposable silverware into spare tupperware containers and then put on his coat and left. Locking his apartment after him, he hurried out to his car and excitedly began the drive to Super-Star! Guitars.

The packaged meals sat in the passenger seat as he drove, and he noticed on the way that the guitar shop was relatively close to the Baratie. He kept an eye on the navigation as it lead him along, a growing sense of anticipation brewing within him as he imagined Nami's reaction to his food, becoming so caught up in his fantasy that he nearly drove past the store once he turned onto the street.

He recognized Zoro's motorcycle parked on the sidewalk, attached to the bicycle rack and rolled his eyes at the way the green-haired idiot was crass enough to believe himself above basic road regulations. Coasting slowly and looking for a place to park, he found that every store-front spot was taken, leading him to drive down to the end of the street to an advertised public lot. Parking as close to the entrance as he could, he quickly got out of the car and grabbed up the lunches he'd prepared and then swiftly locked his car to make his way back down the street as casually and quickly as he could, hardly able to suppress his grin as he walked to the store.

Super-Star! Guitars was bigger than it'd looked from his car, such that he was momentarily overwhelmed when he finally approached it. Ignoring that it was as big as a Best Buy (and apparently just as popular), Sanji opened the glass door and stepped inside, and even though he knew it was a place that sold guitars, he still found himself surprised by the sheer amount of instruments that littered the sales floor and hung displayed on the walls. He stood in place as he looked around, taking in everything he saw until Nami caught his attention.

"Sanjay!" she exclaimed from behind her position at the counter, grinning cheerily and waving him over.

"Sanji, actually," he politely corrected, smiling as he skirted past a few exiting customers and placed the containers of food in front of her. He glanced around briefly, looking around for Zoro, but didn't see him anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

"Sorry, I was watching Sanjay and Craig before work," she said sheepishly as she stood up and looked at the containers hungrily. "Oh man, did you really bring us lunch?"

"Of course!" he declared, turning his attention back around to dote on her. "I can't resist fulfilling the desires of a woman as beautiful as you."

Much to his delight, she laughed as he picked out which tupperware container held her salad. He pulled the top off and presented it to her, garnering a smile of delight as she looked down at what he'd made for her.

"Oh wow, it looks delicious," she said as he provided her with a fork. She wasted no time in digging in, puncturing as much lettuce and fruits onto the end of her fork as she could before shoving it all in her mouth.

Sanji watched as her face morphed into an expression of ecstasy and admiration and felt his heartbeat quicken in response.

"Holy shit, this is good; how did you make a  _salad_ taste so good? You really are a five-star chef!"

Pleased, he grinned but didn't reply so as to let her enjoy her lunch. He glanced around for Zoro again as he picked up the container holding his sandwich and then asked, "So, where's moss for brains?"

"Oh, mm, he's, ah, hang on."

Putting the fork down, Nami wiped her mouth clean of the dressing that had smeared across it and then leaned forward to point across the store.

"See that banner that says lessons? He's back there doing that," she said, and though she sounded serious, Sanji couldn't help but snort and quirk his brow.

"Lessons? The guys a music  _teacher_?" he asked incredulously.

Nami laughed as she recognized his expression and nodded earnestly, grabbing her salad and sitting back in her chair.

"Well, he doesn't teach theory or anything like that, but he's damn good at all kinds of guitar," she remarked with a wink. "He looks scary, but he's really good at what he does. He's in a lesson right now, but if you talk to Brook back there he'll let you wait around 'till he's done."

"Thank you, my beautiful darling! I'll come back and see you on my way out," Sanji said with a flourish, bowing a bit before heading in the direction Nami had pointed out to him.

He took great care in avoiding the instruments on display as he made his way towards the large lessons banner. Peering down the hallway, he saw the oddly decorated waiting room and a small office with a man inside that he assumed was Brook.

Walking forward, Sanji took his time in progressing down the length of the hallway to admire all the various portraits of musicians that were hung along the walls. The sounds of patrons trying out guitars followed him as he moved along, thanking Zeff and his older taste in music that he was able to recognize most of the classic rock guitarists that gazed back at him. As he reached the end of the hall, he noticed that a few punk musicians had made their way onto the wall as well, and Sanji sarcastically wondered who they had to thank for that.

Criticizing the taste in tack, outdated waiting room decor, Sanji quickly walked through it to knock on the office door. Brook looked up from the computer he'd been typing into and gave Sanji a smile before he stood up to open the door.

"Hello!" he greeted, smiling broadly. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm here for Zoro," Sanji said, holding out the sandwich container to explain himself.

Brook cocked his head pleasantly and stared down at him quietly for a moment before he let out an odd laugh and beckoned Sanji to follow him back into his office.

Hesitantly, Sanji followed after him, looking back over his shoulder to the waiting room he thought he'd be sitting in. Brook sat back down in front of his computer and began typing and pulling up various windows that left Sanji to look around at the photographs he had scattered on his desk.

"What's your name?" Brook asked, causing Sanji to look back at what he was doing.

"Er, Sanji?" he replied, watching as Brook typed it into the window he had open.

"Last name?"

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his confusion, Sanji floundered before saying, "It's Vinsmoke, but, uh, why do you need that? Is this protocol for every visitor he has?"

"Well, you're a new student, aren't you?" Brook replied as he entered in his surname, swiveling around in his chair to look up at him expectantly when he'd finished. "I'm merely putting you in the system, is all."

Sanji's mouth formed an 'o' as he realized that Brook had mistaken him as one of Zoro's potential clients.

"Oh, no, no, I'm just here to drop off his lunch, I'm not signing up for lessons-" he tried to clarify, when Brook cut him off.

"You simply must! I've already input your name and created a student profile for you, it's only a matter of picking a day and time now," Brook said, chuckling. "And trust me, it's much easier to put you in than to take you out."

"I don't… I don't even  _have_ an instrument to learn how to play," Sanji tried to explain, though his argument seemed to be falling on indifferent ears. "I'm really only here to leave him some food at Nami's request."

"Ah! You're one of Nami's friends, are you? Well, then she can vouch for Zoro as well! You don't even need an instrument; you can pick anything out here and bring it into the lesson with you."

"I-"

"I know Zoro would appreciate it. He could always use the business, and you wouldn't regret it either! Music is wonderful, and knowing how to create it is a gift for all ages."

Brook's speech was enthusiastic and encouraging, but Sanji shook his head no all the same. He was about to turn out of the office and rejoin Nami at the front to leave Zoro's food with her when his eye caught sight of one of the framed photographs on Brook's desk. Taken by surprise with what he saw, he stepped further into the office instead and leaned in close to examine the picture.

"Is this you with Jimi Hendrix?" he asked, turning towards Brook with a look of awe on his face.

Brook laughed loudly and nodded, picking up the photograph and handing it over to Sanji so he could look it over closer.

"Indeed it is! We performed at Woodstock together back in '69; we were very good friends."

"Holy shit," Sanji breathed, admiration gripping him like a vice. "Wait, did you say 'performed'?"

Handing the picture back, Brook took it and looked at it fondly.

"Ah, yes, in the days of my prime I was once called the Soul King. Jimi and I toured together frequently, and playing those festivals with him was truly an honour."

"Soul King?" Sanji asked skeptically, giving the older man a scrutinizing look. " _You're_ the Soul King? I thought the Soul King died back in the 80's."

"Yes, well, sometimes it really is better to burn out than to fade away," Brook said thoughtfully, wistfully looking away to some of the other photographs that were aligned on his desk, immersing himself in his past. "Rust never sleeps, you know."

Taking in his words, Sanji silently looked at the other photos and saw that Brook really must have been the fabled Soul King. The appearance of the tall, thin, afroed man in the pictures was certainly younger than the man he was talking to, but age did little to deter from his more recognizable features.

"My old man loves you," Sanji commented quietly, earning a chuckle from the somber-faced has-been. "You were really famous, what're you doing working here?"

"Sharing my talent!" Brook suddenly exclaimed, standing upright with such gusto that Sanji was taken by surprise and almost knocked his head back against the wall as he scampered backwards to escape his enthusiasm. "I give lessons here, of course! The Soul King may be dead, but that does not mean his spirit can't keep sharing his gift and knowledge of music!"

"That's, very uh, noble of you," Sanji said. "But I thought Zoro was…?"

"Oh, Zoro and I teach different things! He covers guitar, bass, and some other things, while I cover other classical instruments and basic music theory, but make no mistake! If you were thinking of switching from Zoro to me, I won't have it! I already have you listed as one of Zoro's pupils."

Brook gave him a suspicious leer as Sanji started to say, "Hang on, I never said I agreed to that-!" just as the double doors opened and Zoro stepped out, guitar in hand, with a young boy.

"See you next week, Momonosuke," Zoro said, pulling on the kids ponytail affectionately, earning him an angry fist to the stomach in return.

Sanji laughed as the punk wheezed with surprise, alerting Zoro to his presence. He froze like a deer caught in the headlights, hand on his stomach as he then gave Brook a confused look before exclaiming, "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"Zoro! Language!" Brook chided sharply, which made the kid laugh as Zoro grit his teeth and tried again.

"What the hell-"

"Zoro!"

" _What are_ you  _doing here?!_ Are you stalking me now?! _"_

"That's much better, but still no way to talk to your new student!" Brook said, and then laughed at the disgusted face Zoro made as both he and Sanji said in unison, "No way!"

"You can go on now, Momonosuke, I heard your father playing around on the floor." Smiling, Brook waved the child off, though Momonosuke didn't depart until he'd stuck his tongue out at Zoro, who sneered and responded by flipping him the middle finger. "Now, Sanji, I've schedule you in for Thursday, as that's the only day Zoro has free, but is that alright with you?"

Brought back to the issue of taking lessons, Sanji floundered for a moment and was about to decline Brook yet again, when he caught sight of how angry Zoro looked at the prospect of having him for a student. And, well, when he thought about it, what else did he really have to do? He had no life outside of the Baratie; no friends to hang out with, and no reason to even leave his apartment. But above all that, he knew Zeff would question what he'd done with his time off and would certainly cause a fuss if he learned Sanji hadn't at least picked up a productive hobby of  _some_ sort. Zeff wouldn't approve of him becoming a punk, but Sanji was certain that learning to play an instrument would classify as a hobby he  _would_ approve of.

Zoro's brow was furrowed, and he looked about ready to tell Brook off himself when Sanji intervened and said, "Actually, yeah, Thursdays are good for me."

"Wonderful!" Brook exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air in celebration as Zoro's face fell sheer through to the floor.

"What!" he shouted, holding his guitar up to point it accusingly between the two of them. "I said no!"

"What time best works for you?" Brook said, ignoring Zoro as he put a hand on Sanji's shoulder to lead him back into his office. "Zoro has a few openings around 5 and 6, depending on if you want to take hour long or thirty minute lessons."

"I can do hour long lessons," Sanji replied, glancing back over his shoulder to snicker evilly at Zoro who still stood frozen in a pose of accusatory rage. "6 is fine by me."

Brook laughed aloud again and then shut the door to his office before Zoro regained his senses and began trying to shout them out of finalizing their arrangements.

"You bastards! Quit making decisions without consulting me first!"


	10. The Pirate Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'This all started-  
> a long time ago.  
> When we taught ourselves to play,  
> it all just started to flow.'

The tension that surrounded the front-desk was so palpable that it was keeping customers from entering or leaving the store. A few had tried to overcome their uneasiness by attempting to walk past the duo under Zoro's soul-chilling glare, but were so perturbed and consumed by dread that they gave up and continued to circle dumbly around the store until they felt it was safe enough to pass. Nami and Sanji were oblivious to the anxiety as they stood leaning over the counter, watching Zoro gleefully as he mutely munched away at the sandwich Sanji had brought him for lunch.

The two of them looked absolutely delighted as they conspiratorially leaned together, already at ease with one another despite only having met once before. Knowing that they were waiting for him to make the first move, Zoro took his time eating, slowly consuming his food with all the lackluster of a grazing farm animal. None of them mentioned or even seemed to notice the apprehensive customers that had a formed a line outside the door, waiting to come inside.

Swallowing down the last bite of his sandwich, Zoro finally spoke.

"Well, I'm glad you two are fucking happy about this."

In an instant the thick, atmospheric cloud of tension snapped and dissipated as a collective sigh of relief arose from the customers who felt they were now free to leave and enter.

Zoro slouched back in Nami's rolling chair, swiveling around discontentedly in his seat to cast his seething glare between the two of them, ignoring the sudden influx of people that circulated past them. Nami laughed a bright, jubilant laugh that Sanji took to liking immediately. He then felt compelled to laugh along with her as he leaned across the counter to level Zoro's glare with a mirthful look of his own.

"I bring you food  _and_ business, and this is what I get in return? Death threats and empty promises? I expected better from a, uh, hang on-" Sanji paused in his tirade to grab and begin flipping through the Super-Star! Guitar's instructor profile booklet the front-desk counter offered its guests. He found Zoro's page at the back quickly, snickered at the unflattering photograph of him, and read aloud from the quick biography and pretended not to be impressed with what he read. "-From a '3 time Bass Guitar Monthly cover story performer, who's use of the 3-necked bass 'Santoryu' has made favourable impressions across the country.' See here, I thought you were supposed to be a professional."

"I am," Zoro snarled, sitting up to snatch the booklet away before Sanji could read anything more about him. "And my threats are  _anything_ but empty."

Rolling his eyes and snatching the booklet back, Sanji said, "I'm sure you're all bark and no bite, but I wasn't talking about your lame death threats, idiot."

"Then-"

"The art show," Sanji replied flippantly, scouring through the booklet to inspect the other instructors and paused over Brook's page. "Usopp's art show is tomorrow; you haven't even  _tried_  to make an effort to get me any more involved in that."

"Wow, really?" Nami said in a tone that was so disapproving, several patrons were stricken with a severe sense of inadequacy that would haunt them for the rest of their day. She hopped and twisted onto the countertop so that her legs were dangling on Zoro's side and kicked out at her associate, who easily rolled out of reach in her chair. "I told you to take him!"

"I was!" Zoro said angrily, scooting around in the wheeled chair as Nami continued with her attempts at harassing him. "I still  _am_! The damn thing hasn't happened yet, so get off my ass about it."

"That may be, but I still don't know where the hell it is, or what time it starts, or what the fuck being a fake bodyguard even entails," Sanji said flatly, closing the booklet and setting it aside before it could offer him further distraction.

Rolled all the way against the far wall, Zoro planted his feet firmly on the ground and crossed his arms, frowning harshly at the both of them.

"It starts at 7," he began, narrowing his eyes at Nami when she stuck her tongue out at him. "We have to get there early, though, so we can help set up, so I'll come by at 4."

"That's really fucking early, are you  _that_  incompetent with directions?"

"Fuck you," Zoro bit out. "He wants me to pick up some prints at his place beforehand so we have to leave early enough to get that shit done, asshole. Does that cover it?"

"No," Sanji said, amused with how easy it was to irritate him. "Where is it, what do I have to do, etcetera?"

"Hey, Zoro!"

Behind Sanji, a young teenaged girl waved enthusiastically at the grumpy looking punk, prompting Zoro to stand up and ignore Sanji outright as he went to great his next lesson.

"Been practicing?" Zoro questioned as he lead her away, looking back over his shoulder to sneer nastily at both Nami and Sanji.

' _Rude fucker_ ,' Sanji mouthed after him as he left, earning a hasty and discreet middle finger in response that made him snicker.

"Don't worry about the details too much," Nami said as she slid off her perch to retake her seat behind the counter. Sanji turned back towards her as she began to organize her desk. "All you really have to do is dress formal and look imposing to keep Usopp from shitting himself."

"Easy," Sanji said, striking what he hoped was a dashing, yet imposing form.

"Sure." Nami smiled. "The hard part for you is going to be getting along with Zoro the whole night."

"Bastard," he said, slumping.

Giggling, Nami reached across to where the printer was situated on her left and grabbed a piece of paper from its tray.

"Anyway," she said as she began to write on it. "I'm going to go ahead and give you the directions to the place since Zoro's probably going to make you drive."

"Asshole," Sanji commented lazily, leaning over the counter to watch as she wrote. "What's 'OperationUtopia'?"

"It's the venue the show gets held at," she replied, handing the piece of paper over to him once she finished detailing the instructions. "It's really hard to find because it's so underground, but Zoro's been there before often enough that if you can at least get him in the general area he  _should_  be able to recognize it. But that might be giving him too much credit."

"I'll be sure to jog his memory if he needs a reminder."

He gazed over her neat handwriting before folding the piece of paper until it was small enough to fit in his pocket. He looked back to Nami, who sat twisting in her seat with the sweetest smile he had ever seen gracing her gorgeous face and thought momentarily about asking her out on a dinner date.

Instead, he returned her smile with a charming one of his own and asked for her number.

"You think you're real smooth, huh?" she teased as she pulled out another piece of paper from the printer and tore it in half, writing her number down on one of the halves and handing it over to him. "That's just in case Zoro gets you guys really and truly lost."

"Of course, mon Cherie," Sanji cooed, happily noticing that she had adorned the little scrap piece of paper with hearts. "And now I must sadly take my leave of you, but you can expect many a call or text from me later!"

"Uh-huh, buh-bye now Sanji."

Nami winked at him as he gathered together the containers he'd brought their food in and turned to leave. Sanji's heart fluttered as he bowed before her and then left through the door, ignoring how many people were struggling to get in and out.

As he strode down the sidewalk back towards his car, and even through the rest of his day, Sanji felt wonderfully happy. With the weight of not knowing where to be and what to do the next day lifted from him, he proceeded to get the curtain rods he'd been denied the night before and spent the rest of the day texting Nami off and on, learning various things about both her and Zoro in the process.

He was surprised, though not very, to learn that they had been in a band together a few years ago, though they had since been put on an indefinite hiatus. She wouldn't tell him why, but suggested he check out their music and had given him the name of their band and a link to their old soundcloud.

When he got home and fixed the rods above the windows in his bedroom, he pulled out his laptop and set it up in the kitchen so he could listen to their music while he prepared dinner. Rolling up his shirt sleeves, he entered in the link Nami had sent him via phone, and pulled up the Mugiwara Menace's soundcloud profile.

Glancing through their track listings, Sanji found himself unsure of where to start, and wondered if he should ask Nami what her opinion on where to start was- decided he didn't want to bother her with his indecisiveness- and eventually settled for listening through their discography in the order the songs had been uploaded. With his laptop placed off to the side on the counter, he hit play on the first track and then began to work through his dinner routine.

As the song started to play, he paused and glanced back to his laptop screen, scrutinizing the band's profile picture when the sounds he thought they'd be playing didn't exactly line up with what he thought their punk band would be like.

Along with Zoro (who looked like a younger, dorkier version of himself), and Nami (who was as cute and beautiful as she was now), a third man stood between them that Sanji didn't recognize. Wondering if this was just someone Sanji hadn't met yet, he was startled to see that the band had just over 5,000 followers. For a band of only 3 people to exist within a genre that was as atypical as punk was- to have that many fans was impressive.

Below the picture, a caption read that they were the pioneers of a new punk genre they'd proudly labeled 'Parrot-Punk', which was what was apparently being played for him now.

Snorting at the idiocy of the genre they'd given himself, he wondered what the hell he was getting into when the song he'd selected got over its calm intro. It started out quietly but soon crescendoed into a loud, punkish roar that filled and consumed his apartment with a catastrophic beat that still managed to follow an organized rhythmic pattern. He quickly turned the volume down to something that wouldn't blow his ears out and then tried to resume cooking.

For the most part, it sounded like the same generic punk sounds he'd heard before, but with an odd mixture of instruments he wouldn't have expected a punk band to make use of- and then the vocalist began to sing.

He wasn't sure why, but he'd assumed that Nami's voice was the one he was going to hear shouting out the lyrics, and was taken by complete and total surprise when he realized that the singer was Zoro.

Sanji's first instinct was to laugh.

Zoro's voice was low, rough, raw, and clearly not intended to sing with, but it didn't stop him from bellowing out the words to the song in a manner that was so impactful it made Sanji slowly stop what he was doing entirely.

The song was jaunty and sounded like a rowdy sea-shanty reinvented into an angry anthem of anti-establishment. The overall tune of it sounded happy and carefree, but when he listened to the lyrics he understood just how misleading the tune really was.

There were so many individual components to the song that Sanji initially wasn't sure what he was meant to focus on first. He tried to listen to the song as a whole, and found himself overwhelmed with all the different aspects the song had going for it. The guitar was accompanied with a violin that jilted around the thick, heavy, resounding bass line that thudded in time with the sharp percussion, leading Sanji on as the track progressed towards its end.

It was, he had to admit, very well composed and put together; it went well beyond what he thought Zoro's song-writing capabilities could be, and wondered which one among them was the one who'd actually written it. He stared down at the forgotten ingredients he had splayed before him and doubted his initial ability to be able to make fun of Zoro's singing.

He let the song finish and stood in momentary awe before he decided that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on cooking and listening to the music at the same time. He bookmarked the band's soundcloud and then shut his laptop before finishing his dinner, wondering how his tomorrow would play out and what impact getting into their music would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want an idea of what i imagine zoros singing voice to sound like, either look up mary ann by the horrible crowes or adam raised a cain by bruce springsteen.
> 
> 'ya ok but where ya been buddy what took ya so long to update its been months'
> 
> i dunno man
> 
> also parrot-punk. punk music. but for pirates. bc jimmy buffet.
> 
> (look up the pirate song by the bloody irish boys)


	11. Art Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Pretty little legs, I want to draw them  
> Like a Degas ballerina  
> Pure white skin, like porcelain  
> She's a work of art, and I should know
> 
> I'm an art lover'

"You have got to be kidding me."

"What?"

Zoro stood in the doorway to Sanji's apartment and glanced down at himself with a confused and annoyed expression. Likewise, Sanji was staring down at his outfit with an expression of disdain, for not only was Zoro late, but he was, in Sanji's quite honest opinion, hideously dressed.

"You're not seriously going to an art show dressed like  _that_ , are you?"

"I always wear this to Usopp's show," Zoro said, his annoyance giving itself away in his tone of voice.

"You're not even wearing a  _shirt_."

Frowning, Zoro held open the white dinner jacket he was wearing, revealing that he was in fact shirtless beneath it. A huge, jagged scar wound its way up his torso that Sanji paused to look at, wrinkling his nose in distaste before moving on to critique the rest of Zoro's awful dress.

"And what the hell is that? A tie?" he asked, leaning against his doorframe and accusingly jabbing his cigarette at what appeared to be a tie wrapped around Zoro's right leg, wound just above the knee. "Are you so stupid that you don't even know that ties are supposed to go around your  _neck?"_

"Fuck you," Zoro said, face turning red with embarrassment as he turned away from the door. "I don't have to take this from you; I'll go alone, Nami be damned."

"Oi, don't talk about Nami that way!" Sanji yelled, standing up abruptly to defend her good name.

Instead of replying, Zoro began to head directly for his bike before Sanji could take their argument any further. Cursing to himself, Sanji quickly stubbed out his cigarette and fumbled to get his keys out of his suit pocket, quickly turning around to lock his door before chasing Zoro down into the parking lot.

"And just where the hell do you think you're going?" he said, catching up to Zoro as he straddled his motorcycle. He stood in front of it and grounded himself on the handlebars to prevent the punk from leaving. "Can't take someone with good taste critiquing your shitty punk fashion?"

"Look here, asshole," Zoro growled, shoving his helmet on his head. He flipped the visor up to glare at hit unobstructed. "I don't give two shits what you think about the way I dress, but if this is how you're going to be the whole goddamn night I'm not going to deal with it."

"No no, come on, I'm driving," Sanji said irritably, quickly moving around to push Zoro off his bike. "I'll shut up about the how you look like you got into a fight with your closet and lost."

"Okay,  _fuck_  you!" Zoro snapped, wrenching his helmet off his head and all but throwing it on the ground. Sanji stepped back as he dismounted his motorcycle, ducking when Zoro threw a punch in his direction.

"Oi oi, don't fucking do this now!" Sanji shouted as Zoro charged him, throwing their bodies together and bringing both of them to the ground in a heavy drop.

They landed hard and in a way that had Sanji winded and heaving for breath. He felt his suit- one of his  _nicest_ suits- tear as Zoro punched him in the eye, and was immediately enraged.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" He shouted, trying to gain the upper hand.

Pinned beneath Zoro, he punched him in the stomach and got another punch to the face for his efforts. He was acutely aware of the cement of the parking lot with the way Zoro was drilling into him, punching him into the hard surface with little regard in preserving his good looks for the show. The grit wore at his skin and his clothing until he was finally able to thrash around and punch Zoro off of him so that he was able to quickly get to his feet and kick the idiot into the nearby ditch.

"What the fuck is your problem!?" Furious, Sanji stood by the edge of the parking lot and brought his hand up to wipe away at his bloodied face. He stared down at Zoro angrily, watching as the man groaned and sat up, inspecting the grass stains on his coat. "You fucked up one of my nicest fucking suits, asshole."

"Yeah, well, it looks better now," Zoro grunted, standing up. Sanji braced himself for the next round of their fight and spit blood off to the side, readying his body for Zoro's attack.

To his surprise, though, Zoro ended up simply walking past him and towards where his car was parked, coming to stand by the passenger door with enough nerve to look annoyed when Sanji didn't follow after him.

"Hurry up, asshole," he demanded, wiping down the sleeves of his jacket.

Sanji gaped at him stupidly for a moment before shaking himself out of it.

"What the fuck makes you think I'm still going to take you after this?" he accused, striding towards him, completely intent on continuing their fight.

"Because Nami asked you to, moron."

At the mention of her name, Sanji stood still and dropped his fists. Zoro rolled his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly as Sanji dug through his coat pockets to find his set of keys again.

"This isn't over," he said bitterly, unlocking his car.

"Whatever," Zoro retorted as they both climbed inside, settling into a mutual silence as Sanji glanced at his face in the rearview mirror.

"Fuck, I look awful," Sanji said, wiping at the bloodiest parts of his face with his ruined sleeve.

"That's nothing new," Zoro responded, and then turned away to laugh softly to himself when Sanji turned to glare at him.

"Whatever. Just tell me where the hell Usopp's apartment is and let's get this night over with."

Zoro sat up and reached his hand into his back pocket to pull out a folded up piece of paper. He passed it over to Sanji who snatched it away from him and unfolded it to reveal Nami's familiar handwriting. Drawing out his phone from his pocket, he opened up his navigational app and input Usopp's address into it. He thought briefly about saying something mean, but bit his tongue and began to drive.

They were both quiet as Sanji's phone lead them towards Usopp's apartment, such that Sanji didn't say anything to Zoro about not wearing a seatbelt and Zoro didn't comment on the (admittedly) shitty pop music playing on the radio as they drove. Sanji hated to admit it, but the silence between them felt comfortable; almost natural, even. He could sense that the two of them were becoming closer, despite their intermittent bouts of hating one another to the point where they felt the need to beat each other up. He couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

The drive to Usopp's place wasn't long enough for him to think too much about it, though, and so he cast the thought aside as they pulled off the highway.

The apartment complex was one of the shittiest Sanji had ever seen. All the buildings were single story in make, giving the small complex more of an appearance of a rather seedy looking motel than an actual apartment site. The complex itself was tucked away in what looked like a slight ditch, built almost directly underneath the highway bridge they pulled off of to coast into the small gravel parking lot. He must have looked overly sympathetic about Usopp's living situation, as Zoro snorted and got out of the car when he parked it.

"He doesn't actually live here," he said. "He just keeps this address for his studio. He actually lives with his sponsor/wife/girlfriend/whatever the hell she is to him in a turbo mansion on the other side of town."

"Oh," Sanji said, and got out to follow Zoro to one of the buildings.

He watched quietly and lit a cigarette as Zoro pulled out a key from his front pocket. He shoved it roughly into the door and had to jiggle it a bit before it opened, revealing a dark and overall saggy looking interior. Stepping inside, Sanji noted that the place smelled of fresh paint. He glanced at a few of the easels that had unfinished pieces still on them while Zoro walked directly over to where he knew Usopp had left the prints he wanted for his show that night.

"C'mere," Zoro said, gesturing for Sanji to help him.

The prints in question were large, framed, and wound up being pretty heavy as they divvied them up between the two of them.

"How were you gonna get all these to the show without me?" Sanji asked as they walked to and from the apartment, loading up his car.

"Woulda borrowed Nami's truck," Zoro answered, and then the rest of the transfer was spent in silence.

Once they'd gotten all the designated prints into the backseat of his car and Zoro had locked the door to the studio, they sat still in Sanji's car as he tried to program his phone to pick up the venue the art show was held at. Every time he input 'OperationUtopia', however, his phone's navigation came up blank.

"What the hell's wrong with it?" Sanji said with a frown, angrily trying once again to get his phone to pull up directions.

"It won't show up on that," Zoro said, glancing over at Sanji's phone. "The place is unlisted; might as well not exist."

"That sounds sketchy as fuck."

"Because it is." Zoro snorted. "Why the hell do you think Usopp makes me go pretending to be his body guard?"

"Hell if I know," Sanji mumbled irritably, casting his phone aside before remembering he had Nami's handwritten directions with him. He pulled them out and mentally mapped out the route himself, and then got back on the road.

Every once in a while as they drove, Sanji would glance at himself in the mirror and be dismayed with what he saw. He'd then throw an angry, accusatory look in Zoro's direction only to find the man asleep, snoring lightly with his forehead pressed against the window. Sanji forced himself to scowl every time he caught him this way, but couldn't deny that he was glad to be in his insufferable company.

Sanji followed Nami's directions as accurately as he possibly could, navigating them through the downtown area slowly as he kept an eye out for their mysterious destination, and was confused when the directions ended up leading him to a parking deck.

Looking around the area, Sanji wasn't sure if he was actually supposed to pull in or not, unless- no, well, unless the show was actually held  _in_  the parking deck? Nami had said that the venue was odd, hadn't she? Unsure of himself, but not wanting to doubt Nami's word, he drove in and parked in the first empty spot he could find.

"Oi," he said, reaching over to shake Zoro awake. "Is this it?"

Zoro inhaled sharply as he awoke, sitting up abruptly and looking around confused.

"What?" he asked, squinting at Sanji suspiciously in the shadow of the parking deck before yawning loudly.

"Is this it?" Sanji repeated, fighting the urge to yawn himself.

"Why are you making that face?"

"I'm trying not to yawn."

"Oh," Zoro said, yawning again.

"Answer me, bastard!"

"No, this isn't it, dumbass."

"Then-"

"This is just where we park, idiot. Now help me unload."

Zoro was out of the car before Sanji could snap out a retort smart enough to defend his intelligence. Frowning, he got out and grabbed hold of as many prints as he could handle, and between the two of them, they managed to unload them all. Locking his car, he followed Zoro as he led them out onto the street.

Out of the shade of the deck, Zoro glanced around blankly, looking both ways before deciding on a direction to take. Against his better judgment, Sanji followed after him.

"You know where you're going?" he asked, falling into stride beside him.

"Yeah."

"Are you  _sure_?"

Zoro stopped walking.

"It's the other way," he said suddenly, and then turned on his heel and lead them back the way they'd come.

"Holy shit," Sanji muttered under his breath, and turned to keep after him.

Eventually, after many a u-turn and angry, snide remarks, Zoro found himself in the right place.

"There it is," he said, and nodded his head to indicate the direction.

Sanji looked down the street, but saw nothing that screamed 'art gallery' to him. There were a few boarded up shops and a tall, shaven haired man standing further up the walk, but nothing impressive enough to be what he had built up in his mind.

"Where?" he asked, but Zoro didn't reply.

Doubting that Zoro had actually gotten them to the right place, he watched and slowly followed him as the punk approached the stranger.

"Hey, Daz," Zoro greeted.

The man nodded his head in return as Zoro turned and began to walk down some stairs that were obscured by the buildings on either side of them. Surprised to realize that the place was  _actually_ an underground structure, Sanji stalled at the foot of the stairs before following Zoro's descent.

"Hold up."

The man on the sidewalk pulled Sanji back, throwing off his momentum badly enough that he almost ended up dropping the prints he was carrying.

"What?" Sanji asked irritably, fussing about as he tried to fix his grip on the art. The man stared down at Sanji and said nothing, but blocked Sanji's passage again when he tried to get past.

"Oi, Zoro!" he called when the man refused to let him through.

At the foot of the stairs, Zoro turned around and looked back up at them.

"What's wrong?" he called up.

"You know this is an invitation only ordeal," the man named Daz said, staring Sanji down with a level, easy stare.

"Yeah, so? I invited him," Zoro said casually.

"You know that's not how it is, Zoro," Daz said, shifting his gaze from Sanji to the man at the bottom of the stairs.

From down below, Sanji could hear Zoro's irritated sigh.

"Look, Daz, do you really want me to beat your ass again? Just let him through already, goddamn. I'll take the heat if he gets caught."

Daz stared at Sanji with an unreadably stoic expression before closing his eyes and turning away to let him through. Sanji hesitated momentarily before making his way down the stairs to where Zoro was waiting for him.

"That guys an uptight prick," Zoro grumbled, shouldering open the door to OperationUtopia. "But he's right; this is a pretty, uh, strictly formal kind of thing. So try to lay low."

"Uh, okay?" Sanji said, following him inside.

"I'm serious. Look, if a woman named Robin tries to talk to you, don't. She's the wife or something of the guy who runs this whole thing and if she catches you here without an invite, I'm pretty sure it'll get taken out on Usopp."

"Then why the hell did you even bring me if there was all this risk involved?" Sanji hissed angrily, taking in the sheer size of the underground venue as they walked through.

It was far larger than what he'd thought it'd be. There were walls everywhere that some artists had already gotten around to setting up, and the works that were displayed were phenomenal.

"Nami would drive me into bankruptcy if I didn't," Zoro said miserably, navigating around the maze of walls and artists. "So just avoid Robin and it'll be okay, got it?"

"I don't even know what she looks like; if she's beautiful, I can't make any promises."

"Christ. She's tall; taller than both of us. Long black hair. Scary fucking eyes. Walks around with a dude who wears a shit ton of fur."

"She sounds gorgeous."

"Dammit curly-brow, I didn't bring you here to flirt."

"The hell'd you just call me?"

"Zoro! There you are! Oh, god, I thought you'd gotten lost."

A man wearing what Sanji thought was the most ridiculous looking costume he had ever seen waved at them from across the room, stalling out their argument with his goofy visage.

"Is that-" he began to ask, staring aghast at the atrocity greeting them.

"Sogeking. In here he's known as Sogeking, so don't call him by his real name," Zoro muttered lowly, and then lead them over to where Usopp stood fretting by his empty section of wall.

"Did you get them all?" Usopp asked, looking through the selection of prints Zoro set down to lean against the wall.

"Yeah, I told you I would; don't act all surprised that I got them here on time."

"It's really a miracle," Usopp said, sniffling happily behind his mask. "Wait a minute, where's the rest of them?!"

"I have them," Sanji said, stepping forward and shocking Usopp into silence.

Sanji and Usopp shared an uncomfortably long moment of eye contact before Usopp slowly spoke, saying, "Uh, Zoro, who's that?"

"Bodyguard number 2," he replied, smirking when Sanji scowled and set his half of the prints down beside the rest of them.

"My name's Sanji, er, Sogeking," he said, introducing himself awkwardly and stretching out his hand, knowing full well he looked a goddamn mess and that his palm was pretty scrapped up.

Usopp looked down at his hand quietly before hesitantly reaching out to shake it.

"Uh, Zoro, you know this is an invite only thing," Usopp said, worry creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, so I invited him; look, don't worry about it, Daz let him in and as long as he avoids Robin it'll work out."

"Oh god."

"Let's just get your display set up."

"Sorry," Sanji said, feeling the need to apologize for the anxiety his presence was causing the odd artist.

"No, it's okay, I trust Zoro," Usopp replied, but the way his voice quavered and knees shook seemed to say otherwise. "It's just, uh, you kind of stand out; why are you all beat up?"

"Long story; look, just quit worrying about him and focus on getting through the show," Zoro interrupted, prompting Sanji to throw him a dirty glare.

"You're right, you're right," Usopp said, taking in a deep breath. "Help me hang these."

With the combined efforts of all three of them, setting up Usopp's display went by relatively quickly. In that time, the venue began to fill out with other artists hurriedly working to put up their work before the show started as well, causing a low chattering of background noise that gave substance to the large room.

When they'd finish, they collectively took a step back to appreciate Usopp's work. A lot of it was like what Sanji had seen previously, but Usopp's talent was truly diverse and well exemplified in the collection he'd chosen to put together. There was a variety of monotone pieces, as well as the two and three toned types of work that Zoro had hung in his apartment. They were all beautiful as far as Sanji was concerned, and could sense the amount of pride Usopp had for his talent.

"So," he said, prompting Zoro and Usopp to turn and look at him.

"What?" they both asked.

"Is there a bathroom or something I can clean up in?" he questioned, gesturing to his face.

"The bathroom's all the way in the back," Usopp said, pointing down the length of the gallery. "Just, uh, be quick about it, okay?"

"Sure, and thanks," Sanji replied, sticking his tongue out at Zoro before turning and hurriedly walking towards the restroom before too many people noticed him.

Along the way he caught glimpses of what the other artists had brought in, and was really taken by all the different talents displayed in the one room. He didn't have long to appreciate them, though, as his need to make himself presentable occupied his primary thought.

He rushed as dignified as he could into the restroom. He grabbed a bunch of paper towels and wet them at the sink, looking into the mirror and wincing at his reflection as he cleaned the largely dried blood from his face. Bruises were slowly beginning to settle in his skin as fixed his hair and tried to straighten out what was left of his suit.

' _Damn Zoro,'_  he thought to himself _. 'I wanted to look good tonight.'_

Sighing and accepting that he could do next to nothing about the tattered state his clothing was in, he dried his face and hands and then stepped back out into the gallery.

There were a lot more people crowding the space now than when he'd gone to wash his face, forcing him to take his time in getting back to where Usopp and Zoro were waiting.

People serving champagne had started to make rotations as guests began to fill out the place, swerving dangerously past him and other people with tall glasses ready to be spilt. He grabbed one from a waiter making rounds and stopped to observe an interesting piece of art that caught his eye.

It was a monumental work in terms of size, spread out on a canvas so large it took up an entire section of wall on its own. On it was painted a scene of a war of some sorts, with what looked like marines from an older generation doing battle against pirates. The craftsmanship behind the painting was incredible, and captures Sanji's full and complete attention, such that as he stood there, standing and sipping at his drink, he failed to notice the woman standing beside him until she turned to speak with him.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" she said in a voice so serene, it managed to draw Sanji's attention away from the painting. The contentedness he'd felt at having freshened his appearance left him abruptly as he turned to face the woman he was almost certain Zoro had warned him against. Despite the warm smile on her face, the expression in her cold, blue eyes made him shiver.

"Um," he said, flustered by both her sublime beauty and at being caught unawares. "Yeah, it's really beautiful. Much like you."

Her smile was dark and knowing as she laughed slightly and turned back to the painting.

"Yes, it is," she said, and then walked away into the crowd, leaving Sanji with a sinking sense of insecurity in his stomach.


	12. Four Kicks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'This party's overrated  
> But there ain't shit else to do  
> She's a lovin' on the boy from the city  
> I'll be lovin' him under my shoe'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soz its been a while; i havent abandoned the story there were just a... series of complications that kept me from writing, those being that i got drunk one night and puked on my keyboard lol so now it doesnt work.
> 
> i also wanted to extend a thanks to those who expressed their support in reviews; they mean a lot and are really whats keeping me inspired to continue this and its really nice to see so many people are interested and all that
> 
> SO THANKS they are much appreciated
> 
> also if youre ever curious as to what im up to ur all free to follow me on twitter

While he was, for the most part, glad to have been invited out, he wasn't sure why exactly he'd thought the night would prove to be exciting. Rather, he found himself disappointed when it turned out that being a bodyguard, albeit a fake one, was actually a rather dull experience.

As far as Sanji could tell, there really wasn't a need for the bodyguard schtick. No one had approached Usopp in a manner that could even be  _considered_ threatening, rendering him and Zoro utterly useless. Not even the woman he'd met earlier had come around to harass them if she had, in fact, been the woman he'd been warned against. It was boring work, if he was honest. He hadn't even been allowed to tour the gallery after he'd come back from the restroom, which was another disappointment all on its own. Part of his excitement that came with being able to take part in Usopp's show was the thought of getting to enjoy the fine arts setting.

And though he knew it hadn't been, it felt like he'd been standing in place for hours. There was nothing for him to do besides stand around and try to look like he belonged, but, hell, there wasn't even a wall for him to lean against.

It wasn't so much that he was tired of having been standing in place for so long, (working at the Baratie had conditioned him to stay on his feet for long hours), so much that it was that he wasn't allowed to move around. He was  _restless_  and indescribably bored, crippling his motivation and desire to be there at all.

The crowd in the gallery wasn't even interesting, which may have been the worst part. He'd thought that, being artists and collectors, there would have been a few eccentrics in the group to rejuvenate his spirit, but there were none. Everyone was as bland and dull as the next. After a while, their faces morphed together into one large flesh-toned audience that rotated around and droned on unmercifully about paintings he couldn't see. It was beginning to make his head hurt.

Usopp himself even seemed disinterested, though it was hard to tell with his mask in place, but at least he got to speak with the people who asked about or wanted to buy his art, but  _damn_ did the man talk.

His stories had entertained Sanji at first, but before long he began to find the exaggerations that came with each piece to be annoying. They grew grander and taller with each passing patron who inquired about his work to the point where his stories were entirely unbelievable, and yet, the people he told them to continued to eat them up.

Glancing over at Zoro, positioned on the other side of Usopp, Sanji saw that the idiot punk was just as bored as he was. His gaze was dull and gone, and if it weren't for the fact that he occasionally sighed and shifted his weight around, Sanji would have thought he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open.

What Sanji really needed, he figured, was a cigarette. He'd been pining for one not long after they'd helped set up Usopp's gallery spaced, and hadn't yet gotten the chance to step away and have a smoke. To be able to do that, at least, would be a welcome break to the refined monotony he'd gotten involved with.

Discreetly, Sanji had tried to scout out a place where he could slip away to on his own, but being unfamiliar with the building, he'd been unable to ascertain where any side-exits were. Glancing to Zoro, he recognized that the man probably knew where he could go to smoke, though, he didn't necessarily want to talk with him; he was already strung-out and annoyed enough without having to deal with what would inevitably turn into an argument.

But his fingers kept twitching and fidgeting towards the pocket he kept his cigarettes in, enforcing his need and desire to step away for  _just_  a minute. Left with no other option, Sanji decided to cut his losses and try to get Zoro to offer him a way out.

With Usopp positioned between them, Sanji waited until a curious guest began to ask if they could negotiate a price on one of his pieces before he attempted anything. As Usopp stepped away to speak with the potential buyer, Sanji sighed, glared at Zoro, and then mustered up the last bit of courtesy he had to step in close and ask about an exit.

"Oi, moss-head," he murmured, glancing to see if Zoro had heard him.

Zoro barely turned his head to acknowledge that he had and remained staring impassively ahead.

Ignoring his impersonal behaviour, Sanji licked his lips and said, "I need a break."

Zoro appeared surprised as he quirked his brow and frowned at him. Sanji returned his stare, trying to convey his need for something,  _anything_ , to do to get him away from his spot to break his boredom, but instead Zoro shook his head and denied him.

Sanji's brow furrowed.

"What, can't handle all this  _rousing_ excitement?" Zoro said, sarcasm dripping thickly off his tongue. "You're weaker than I thought."

Trying his best not to rise to Zoro's taunt, Sanji took a deep breath and tried to keep himself calm.

"Look, asshole, all I'm asking for is a smoke break. Just point me to a back entrance or whatever. Five minutes is all it'll take."

"Back entrance?" Zoro said, snorting. "What back entrance? We're  _underground_ , idiot; there are no 'back entrances'."

Sanji floundered; honestly, he'd forgotten about that.

Zoro noticed his expression and laughed, snickering when Sanji scowled and attempted to approach him threateningly.

"If you want me to keep standing here doing this shit, then you're going to let me go have a smoke break," he said, keeping his voice quiet and insistent. Zoro stopped laughing.

For a moment, they were quiet. The buzz and the heat from the packed gallery packed in around them as they stared each other down tensely.

Sanji knew that if they weren't careful, they'd likely end up in another fight. But he wanted this.

He spoke slowly, making his point clear as he said, "I'm going to go smoke regardless of whether or not you allow it."

"Oh yeah?" Zoro said, his tone of voice becoming testy as he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, facing Sanji directly. "And where you gonna go to do that? The bathroom? 'Cause they have smoke detectors in there."

Sanji nodded his head towards the entrance they'd come in from earlier.

"If I can't go out, I'll go up," he said.

"Don't," Zoro said seriously.

The look in Zoro's eyes was threatening, and Sanji was aware that, if he didn't back down now, they  _would_  start a fight. He didn't want to tarnish Usopp's reputation, or even disrupt the atmosphere, but Zoro really was insufferable. His hands had already formed into fists by the time he thought, ' _Fuck it',_ and retaliated.

"I'd like to see you  _try_ and stop me," Sanji sneered, turning away smartly to head for the exit.

There was a brief moment where, as he began to walk away, he'd thought Zoro had actually let him go before he felt himself abruptly stumble backwards. It was a foolish thought as Zoro harshly jerked him back into place, grabbing hold of his upper arm roughly to pull him back into place.

Outraged at the way he was being manhandled, Sanji immediately broke his grip and stormed forward until he was right in Zoro's face. There they stalled, but the anger between them was so palpable people had begun to take notice.

"I said don't," Zoro said, speaking lowly.

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?!" Sanji hissed, shoving at Zoro's chest. "Where the hell do you get off trying to dictate where I can and can't go, you- you- you fucking  _fascist!_ "

At that, Zoro's eyes went wide and then narrowed considerably with rage. He rose to Sanji's anger and shoved him back roughly, nearly knocking him into Usopp's display. Before Sanji could launch himself into a counterattack, Usopp swiftly interjected.

"Oi oi oi!" He said nervously, rushing in between them to hold them back at arms-length. "What's going on?!"

"Nothing," Zoro spit out, eyeing Sanji with all the malice of a mad, chained dog that he could muster.

"It's  _not_ nothing," Sanji contested, pressing his weight against Usopp. Zoro responded with a sneer.

Usopp fretfully looked between them, unsure of what to do. Around them, a small gathering of people had accumulated and were now all watching them. Noticing this, the artist's knees began to shake and he wondered if he'd really be able to stop the two of them if they did decide to brawl.

"Well, whatever it is, please,  _please_ don't make a scene here!" he pleaded, looking to the both of them to concede.

They stared at each other impassively over Usopp's head, neither of them willing to back down.

"Zoro,  _please!"_ Usopp whispered frantically, turning towards his friend. "The last thing I need is to get noticed here with him! Or to get noticed at all!"

Zoro's face contorted, stuck between the desire to beat Sanji shitless and the need to stay low-key in order to give Usopp some peace of mind. It was ugly, and made Sanji smirk. He knew Zoro was going to let up.

After a moment of nothing, Zoro finally relented, turning away and running a hand through his hair as he breathed out, "Fuck!" loudly. Usopp hesitated, but lowered the barrier between them, heaving a gigantic sigh of relief.

"Fuck," Zoro repeated sourly, angrily glaring at everything but Sanji. "Fuck. Fine, okay, fuck."

Before Sanji could gloat about his victory, Zoro had quickly stepped around Usopp to grab him again by the arm.

"Oi!" Sanji said, trying to pull away, but the hold Zoro had over him was stronger than the last.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Usopp shouted as Sanji was dragged away. "Where are you going?!"

"Five minutes," Zoro said loudly in reply, projecting his voice over the murmur of gallery collectors. He turned his head to briefly look at Sanji, a very serious expression on his face as he led them to the stairwell exit.

Unsure of whether or not this was Zoro actually giving in and letting him take a break, or if it was a ruse to take the fight outside, Sanji hesitantly allowed himself to be led away. Either way, if it got him outside, he'd take it. He knew he could handle Zoro in a fight.

Looking back over his shoulder, Usopp stood fretfully amidst the group that had not yet disbanded, causing Sanji to wonder if he should be worried for him. He was fairly confident that nothing would befall the artist while the two of them were gone, but the way the man stood quaking presented his mind with doubt.

He cast Usopp out of his mind as they approached the stairwell, and together they climbed up until they were met with the street.

Sanji took a deep breath of the cool evening air as they stepped around Daz, who eyed the both of them suspiciously. Zoro ignored him as he power-walked them to a spot not too far from the gallery, but far enough away that they were out of ear shot of the doorman.

It was then Sanji noticed Zoro still had hold of him.

"You done with this?" he asked, giving Zoro a deadpan expression and gesturing to his arm. "Can I have it back now?"

Zoro scowled and released him.

"Thanks."

With his arm free, Sanji casually went for his pack of cigarettes and plucked one out to smoke. Warily, he eyed Zoro, prepared to fight and protect himself if this was indeed the purpose the punk had led them outside for. But as he lit up, Zoro went to rest back against the storefront they'd found themselves in front of and let himself slide down the window until he was sat on the sidewalk.

It was evident in the way he let his head rest back that he'd needed a break, too, and so Sanji relaxed.

Breathing in deeply from his cigarette, he felt his tension slip away as he leaned back against the building. Already beginning to feel more at ease, he frowned when Zoro spoke, saying, "Five minutes."

"I know what I said, asshole," Sanji retorted sharply, kicking at one of Zoro's outstretched legs.

Rested together under the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp, the two of them were quiet as they enjoyed their break in their own way. Sanji watched pedestrians pass by and smiled at the ladies who politely stepped over and around Zoro's legs, and though they were outside of the gallery now, he could still hear some remnants of the dull mutterings that took place inside it.

"Is it always that crowded?" he found himself asking, glancing down at Zoro to see if he were sleeping or not. With his eyes closed, it was hard to tell.

Zoro didn't say anything for a bit, until he opened his eyes and sighed, saying, "Yeah."

"Crazy," Sanji murmured, and let himself slide down until he was sat beside Zoro on the ground.

Zoro side-eyed Sanji with an unreadable expression before closing his eyes and resting back again.

"You know," Sanji began to say, disturbing Zoro's rest once more. "For a minute, I really thought you'd dragged me out here to fucking fight me again."

Zoro snorted.

"I thought about it."

"Then why the hell  _did_  you come out here with me?"

"Because of him," Zoro stated, pointing over to where Daz still stood guard. "If you came up alone, he wouldn't let you back in."

"Oh," Sanji said, staring at the guard's distantly dim figure. "Thanks, then."

Zoro shrugged off his thanks but looked uncomfortable.

"It's whatever," he replied. "You're my ride, anyway."

They fell into silence again, the both of them dreading returning to the busy gallery. The evening sky grew darker in the time that they relaxed, though Sanji was not content with the silence. He was an extrovert, after all; there was always a need in him to make small talk.

"So what's with all your fighting shit, anyway?" he asked, looking to Zoro. "Why'd you try and jump me in the fucking parking lot earlier?"

Zoro sighed exasperatedly and sat forward, giving Sanji a glare. It was clear he didn't appreciate the way Sanji continued to disrupt his peace.

"You pissed me off," he said bluntly.

"Oh, come on," Sanji said bitterly. "You're really telling me your ego is seriously  _that_ frail? That's not it."

"Well, you did," Zoro mumbled halfheartedly. When he didn't continue speaking, Sanji nudged him to continue. Zoro frowned and shied away from the touch. "I don't know why, alright? I just like to fight; I fight everyone, and you seem…"

"Seem what? Like an easy target?"

He couldn't help the angry tone he spoke with, but really, he didn't appreciate feeling like he was just a punching bag for the guy to be abused at will. If they were going to be friends, he deserved to be treated better and he was prepared to make that happen. Zoro, however, seemed embarrassed.

"No, not that. Just, capable, I guess," he replied awkwardly, looking away to the toes of his boots. "You're a challenge."

Sanji stared at him silently before turning away and saying, "Oh."

He sat smoking quietly as he contemplated what Zoro meant, but beside him, the punk seemed agitated about something.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright?" he blurted suddenly, disrupting the calm Sanji had descended into.

"What?" he replied blankly. "For what?"

"For your fucking shitty ass suit," he said angrily, though Sanji couldn't tell if his anger was directed at him or not.

"Oh," he said, looking at the tattered sleeve of what had once been his finest suit. Upon being reminded of it, he found that he wasn't all that angry about it anymore, but the way Zoro looked at it made it seem like he still was.

"If you took it to a uh, tailor, you think they could fix it?" Zoro asked, scratching at his head uncomfortably.

"Probably," Sanji replied with a shrug.

"Then I'll foot the bill if you do."

Sanji's surprise at Zoro's unprovoked spur of generosity must have manifested itself on his face as the punk turned a little red and scowled, looking away.

"Uh, okay. Thanks," was all Sanji could think to say.

The silence between them grew awkward as they waited for Sanji to finish smoking.

"You know it's been more than five minutes," he said quietly after a while.

"I know," Zoro replied, and nothing more was said between them until the ash of Sanji's cigarette had reached the filter, signaling its end.

Together, they rose after Sanji stubbed it out along the sidewalk and returned to the gallery entrance. As they passed, Daz gave them an eerie look accompanied with a discomfiting smile. Zoro leered at him as they began their descent, both of them choosing to ignore the sinister feeling it gave them.

The heat of the gallery swept up to greet them as they rejoined the throng of artists and collectors. The ceiling fans spun rapidly in place, but the breeze they produced was lost on them as they slowly began to make their way back to Usopp when Zoro suddenly froze, eyes going wide.

"What?" Sanji asked, turning to look in the direction Zoro was staring when he'd stopped. "What is it?"

"Go," Zoro said, a sense of urgency quickly taking hold of his voice. He turned away from where he'd been looking and grabbed hold of Sanji's shoulders. "Hide. Or leave. Don't go back to Usopp and if anyone asks, you snuck in here on your own. Don't wait up for me I'll take a bus back. Go home."

"Wait, wait, what the fuck is going on?!" Sanji tried to ask, but Zoro pushed him away back towards the exit and shouted at him to leave again as he began to power his way through the crowd.

Sanji stood where he was, frowning and trying to make out where Zoro was rushing off to, when, through the crowd, he saw.

Usopp was cornered back against his display, trapped between the wallspace and the woman whom Sanji had met earlier, though she was now accompanied by a tall man adorned in thick looking furs. Together, they loomed over Usopp, who was visibly shaken by whatever it was they were saying to him.

A strong, sinking feeling consumed him as he watched Zoro finally make it to Usopp's side. He looked every bit as tough and mean as Sanji knew him to be as he stood between the two and his friend, and though Sanji wasn't near, he could tell that they were speaking about him.

' _Shit,_ ' he thought to himself as he hesitated, debating with himself on what he should do next, when the woman began to turn around to point him out.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he bolted back up the steps, escaping as quickly as he could before they'd (hopefully) noticed him.

When he reached the street, Daz laughed at him outright, prompting Sanji to flip his middle finger out at him before he began to jog down the walk to his car, unsure of what was going on and what he should do to help. As he ran, an idea struck him, and he pulled out his phone and began to dial Nami.


	13. Tuft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Is it luck that you're still standing  
> And you've not been flattened too?  
> Do you tremble in the little wind  
> That's squeezed out by my shoe?  
> Lone standing tuft  
> Defy the foot  
> Has your tuftiness mutated so  
> Your strands are made of steel?  
> Is it sheer determination  
> You'll never bend beneath the heel?'

Away from the crowd of artists and collectors, set towards the back of the gallery, a set of thick double doors stood hidden behind a blank display. At Crocodile’s  _ request _ , both Usopp and Zoro were lead through them. Robin followed quietly behind, corralling them into the secretly harbored hall as they stepped through. As the solid doors were shut behind them, all sounds of the gallery were lost instantly and a strong, foreboding silence encompassed them.

Robin smiled softly, knowingly, as she strode past Usopp, who had begun to shiver uncontrollably. Her footsteps that would have echoed in the heeled boots she wore were lost to the soundproofed walls and soft carpet that surrounded them.

The corridor was low-lit and appeared much longer than it actually was, but still gave off an eerily stiff air that perhaps stemmed from the fact that it was hidden. It wasn’t all that foreboding, but it was enough to root Usopp in place. 

Zoro had to kindly take him by the arm to get him to start walking after Robin passed, as the artist was far too frightened to take any initiative himself. Zoro mumbled that it’d be alright, however Crocodile decided to punish them, but even he himself wasn’t sure as they finally stepped into Crocodile’s office.

It wasn’t incredibly imposing, but it wasn’t wonderfully inviting, either.

It was as low-lit as the hallway was, casting shadows across the faces of those gathered in the room in a distinctly film-noir style. As the building, and, henceforth, the office, were underground, there were no windows. The walls themselves were largely blank, excepting for the large, classical paintings that adorned them. 

If it weren’t for the fact that it was Crocodile who owned them, Zoro might have assumed they were replicas, but there was no real way of telling when it came to what Crocodile was capable of acquiring. 

Though impressive, the paintings themselves weren’t what maintained the attention of one’s eyes, for the chair that loomed behind the desk was, perhaps, (besides Crocodile himself), the most formidable thing about the room. 

It was resemblant of a throne of old royalty, and when Crocodile set himself upon it, he commanded the air of a king and stared Zoro and Usopp down. Robin came around to stand by his side and watched them thoughtfully.

Besides Crocodile’s throne, there were no other chairs in the room, forcing the two of them to stand before his mercy, and while Usopp shook helplessly, Zoro stood defiantly before them, matching Crocodile’s stare with a steely glare of his own. 

An air of menace accumulated itself in the room, threatening the artist and his bodyguard until Crocodile turned his gaze away to light a cigar.

“So,” he began, puffing on his cigar and leaning back into the comforts of his chair. “It’s been brought to my attention that someone believes themselves to be superior to my rules regarding these gatherings.”

When he spoke, his voice commanded such authority that it caused Usopp to tremble even more fiercely.

“N-no, that’s not what we-”

“You have no proof,” Zoro butt in, speaking quickly before Usopp’s stammerings could convict them both. 

The smoke from Crocodile’s cigar had begun to circle upwards into the air until the cigar was abruptly jerked from one side of his mouth to the other, disrupting the trail. Crocodile’s grin was broad and unsettling when it creeped across his face, though Zoro remained undaunted.

“Oh?” He said, and before he’d spoken, Zoro had believed his statement to be true, and that Crocodile had no real definitive proof that Sanji had been there, but the absolute  _ sureness  _ in Crocodile’s voice made him uncertain despite the fact he’d only uttered one word. When he spoke, Robin smiled as well and passed to him a small walkie-talkie when he beckoned for it.

Confused, Zoro watched the passing of the device until it was in Crocodile’s good hand, wherein he activated it, and leaned forward to speak into it.

“Bring him in,” he ordered with a growl.   


Outside in the darkness of his car, Sanji sat on the phone with Nami. He’d called her immediately as he’d left OperationUtopia, though she hadn’t picked up the first time he’d dialed, prompting him to stall when he’d reached his car until Nami had answered.

And even though he’d left the gallery itself, he hadn’t left the actual surrounding area, and was sat still in the same parking spot that he’d originally parked in, when he’d finally gotten a hold of her.

_ “So, you’re saying you got caught?”  _ Nami’s voice was tinny, but still beautiful as it was transmitted into his ear. She still sounded sleepy from the cat-nap he’d woken her up from, and the thought of her being half-asleep was simply too adorable for him to stand.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just unsure of what to do now,” he said as he lit a cigarette, inhaling and exhaling quietly. He cracked open the driver’s side door to allow escape for the smoke, and shivered when the cold air made direct contact with his skin.

_ “What do you mean?”  _ she said around a yawn.

“I mean, Zoro told me to leave, but I-”

_ “You mean you’re still there?!” _

He was taken aback by the sudden, almost panic-stricken way she sounded when she spoke over him, and almost dropped his cigarette onto the pavement.

“Er, yeah. I mean, I’m just in the parking lot-” he explained, but Nami spoke over him again.

_ “What? Sanji, no, leave, NOW!”  _ she exclaimed, evidently completely awake now.

“What?”

Almost speechless, Sanji had to temporarily take the phone away from his ear because of her outburst. And while he did enjoy her voice, it still hurt his ear when she shouted in it. When he returned to listening, Nami was still speaking.

_ “. . . okay? Whatever it is you think you can do for them, forget about it! They can handle themselves., but you have to go.” _

“Why?” he said, frowning. He shifted the way he was sitting in the front seat and adjusted the rearview mirror casually. “The least I can do for getting them in trouble like this is to wait and see how it played out.”

“And I’m Zoro’s ride,” he added, tapping ash out of the open car door.

Over the phone, he could hear her sigh and pictured the way her face must have looked in that moment. It was probably just slightly annoyed, with pouty lips and a concerned expression that would crease her majestic forehead. Oh, it was enticing.

_ “Forget it! Look, the people in charge there can only punish them IF they have proof you were there, and IF they do, they’ll come down on Usopp and they’ll come down  _ hard. _ ” _

“It’s so wonderful of you to be so concerned for me,” Sanji said with a swoon, momentarily distracted from the situation by the amount of concern she was currently displaying. 

He was rudely jerked out of his affections when she said, “ _ Forget it, Sanji! I’m not concerned about  _ you,  _ I’m concerned about Usopp and Zoro!” _

Pride wounded, Sanji wilted in his seat and sunk down into the cushion, chin on his chest and cigarette hanging limply from his mouth.

“Zoro before me?” he mumbled sorely. “Really?”

Again, he heard Nami sigh.

_ “Of course I’m worried about you too, Sanji,”  _ she said gently, attempting to placate him. “ _ But right now you’re a liability; our friends are in danger and you need to get out of there before you make it worse. Do you hear me, Sanji?” _

He did, but as he began to set himself upright in the car his eye caught something that looked like it was moving toward him in his rearview mirror. Adjusting it again by tilting it in the direction of the movement that was coming from the walkway, he frowned and cursed when he saw that it was Daz when he stepped into the light of a streetlamp.

_ “What is it?”  _ Nami said, speaking urgently when she heard him swear. “ _ Sanji?” _

“Sorry, Nami, my sweet, but I’m afraid I’ll have to talk to you later.”

With that, he hung up, unable to wait to hear her response. As quickly as he could, he discarded his cigarette and shut the door and attempted to start his car, praying inwardly that it would be generous enough to cooperate with him. Checking the mirror again, he saw now that Daz knew he’d noticed him and had started running toward him, abandoning his previous stealth tactic of sneaking in the evening shadows.

“Oh, shit,” Sanji mumbled before his car finally responded and burst to life.

Checking Daz’s proximity to him, he wasted no time in throwing his car into reverse and then hastening an exit by backing straight out of not only his parking spot, but the lot as well and into the very street. Ignoring how he almost backed himself into another oncoming car, he put his car into drive and sped away just as Daz had begun to cross the street.

Glaring after the retreating taillights of Sanji’s car, Daz clenched his fist and spoke into the walkie-talkie Robin had given him earlier that night.

Gritting his teeth, Daz said, “He got away.”

When Zoro heard the transmission relayed in Crocodile’s office, he felt a wave of relief overcome him. He was initially annoyed by the fact that Sanji would want to wait around on them to make it out alright, but was glad that he’d managed to escape capture regardless.

Confident now, he smirked when Crocodile grunted and said, “Disappointing.”

The Baroque Works leader set the walkie-talkie aside but didn’t look deterred in the slightest, and raised Zoro’s smirk with one of his own.

“Robin,” he said, not turning to look at her as he addressed her. “I believe you have something else for me.”

“Yes, Sir Crocodile.”

Zoro’s smirk left his face as Robin strode away from the desk and left the office entirely. Beside him, Usopp had not stopped trembling and appeared as if he were about to faint. Side-eyeing Crocodile, Zoro leaned in to whisper encouragement.

“Stay cool, Sogeking; they don’t have anything on us.”

At that, Crocodile grinned broadly, but did not speak until Robin returned, bringing with her a rolling trolley that had a monitor and a vcr upon it.

Zoro frowned, drawing his brows together.

“Getting a bit primitive, eh?” he couldn’t help but say as Robin rolled the trolley to a halt beside Crocodile’s desk. “Couldn’t afford the Blu-Ray?”

Despite his sarcasm, Zoro couldn’t help but worry about what it was Crocodile had planned. 

Crocodile shrugged off the comment, stating simply, “I was feeling cheap when I had surveillance installed; after all, we only needed it to monitor one person.”

“S-surveillance?” Usopp stuttered, voicing what Zoro had been thinking.

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten the last person your bodyguard brought in uninvited,” Robin said with an unnervingly gentle smile. “What else was to stop him from bringing in more unwanted guests?”

“Other than an incompetent door guard?” Zoro said, his stomach sinking despite the amount of bite he held in his voice. There was too much evidence the video surveillance system could have caught of the two of them interacting; after all, they had almost started a fight in the middle of the goddamned gallery. 

Robin merely smiled at him, and slipped in a video before anyone could say anything else.

The monitor immediately began showing scenes from the gallery with a focus on Usopp’s display. On it, they could clearly see Zoro and Usopp standing by, but something about the video was off. Where Sanji should have been on the screen was a blur, as though there were a smudge on the screen that was blocking the picture. 

Risking a glance at Crocodile, he saw the man finally frown.

“Strange,” Robin mused with a playful expression.

Crocodile only grunted in agreement and bid her fast forward. She complied, but with every scene that Sanji should have been in, the blur was present or the footage had been carefully edited out entirely. The scene where he and Zoro had been about to brawl was cut out completely, confusing not only Crocodile, but everyone else who was present.

“What is this?” Crocodile growled, turning from the monitor to Zoro and Usopp as if they were the ones who had tampered with the surveillance videos. 

“I-I don’t know, Sir,” Usopp squeaked out.

“Looks like faulty surveillance tech to me,” Zoro said, unable to contain himself. “Looks like you should’ve splurged for the Blu-Ray.”

“Enough!” Crocodile shouted, rising from his seat as Robin quietly turned off the moniter. Usopp flinched and cowered beside Zoro, who stood firmly before Crocodile’s rage. “I know for a goddamned fact you snuck someone in here!”

“But you have no proof,” Zoro said quickly, licking his lips in an excited manner. “You can’t press charges if there’s no evidence.”

Crocodile narrowed his eyes menacingly at the two of them before he straightened out his furs and sat back down.

“You haven’t won anything,” he said threateningly. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“You’re all bark,” Zoro drawled, forcing another look of anger out of Crocodile’s face.

“Get out,” Crocodile snarled, turning away from the artist and his bodyguard with an air of disgust.

Robin smiled simply at them as Zoro took hold of Usopp’s arm to guide him out of the office and into the hall. He couldn’t help the wide shit-eating grin he had on his face for managing to evade prosecution, but at the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder how those videos hadn’t pictured Sanji.

Whatever the case, they were off the hook. 

“Holy shit,” he said with a slight laugh as they returned to the gallery, where things were beginning to wind down. “That was fucking intense.”

“Oh God, I can’t believe I managed not to piss myself,” Usopp said with a nervous chuckle.

“Me neither,” Zoro teased, laughing as they approached Sogeking’s display.

Around them, artists were finalizing deals and beginning to dismantle their displays. Together, they began to follow suit, taking down unsold prints and waiting for the people who bought the others to come by and collect.

Slowly, the gallery emptied of patrons until there were only a few other artists and assistants left. It was a laborious process dragging up the stairs all of the unsold prints and loading them into Usopp’s car, but it was manageable between the two of them. At the end of it all, Zoro had worked up enough of a sweat that the night air didn’t affect him, despite his lack of a shirt. 

Looking at the stock packed into Usopp’s car, the Sogeking removed his mask and frowned at what they had. 

“I didn’t sell too much tonight,” he said morosely.

Zoro silently agreed.

“Sorry about that,” he said, wondering if the dip in Usopp’s sales weren’t correlated to his mean and overall uninviting appearance.

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault, Zoro,” Usopp said, closing the trunk. “But, um, can I ask a favor from you?”

“Sure,” Zoro said, turning to face him.

In the dim light of a nearby streetlamp, it was hard to see any definitive features of each other’s faces, but it was still evident from all the fidgeting Usopp was doing that he was a little nervous to ask.

“I- I think you’re a great friend and all and I trust you and everything but-” He stopped there to take a deep breath and looked up to meet Zoro’s eyes with a pitiable look. “Can you please please  _ please  _ not bring anymore people here without invitations?”

Usopp looked pained to make his plea, but Zoro felt the guilty weight of responsibility for all the misfortune that he’d unintentionally brought them that night as it took its toll on his artist friend.

“It’s just, I had to pull so many strings to be able to bring you here, and, well, after what  _ Nami  _ did, it’s just- and I think Nami’s great, by the way!- it’s just that I don’t think they’re going to make showing here any easier and- and I  _ need  _ this,” Usopp said, tumbling head first into a nervous ramble.

“It’s okay, it’s okay; I understand,” Zoro said soothingly, reaching out to take hold of Usopp’s shoulder supportively, halting his stumblings. “I’ll stop breaking the rules. It’s my job to keep you safe, not a nervous wreck all the time.”

Usopp let out a huge breath of relief as he took hold of Zoro’s hand and greeted him with an immensely thankful look.

“Thanks, Zoro.”

Rather than reply, Zoro nodded in acknowledgement and took his hand away. 

“So, um, do you need a ride?” Usopp said, leaving the sentimentality behind as he made his way to the driver’s side of his car. “I know you rode here with your friend.”

It was a simple question, but when Zoro thought about it, he knew he ought to decline. He lived way out of the way from where Usopp lived, and while he knew that Usopp wouldn’t mind driving all that way for him, Zoro figured he’d already caused enough trouble for the artist for one night.

“Eh, nah,” he replied with a shrug. “I’ll call a cab.”

Usopp gave him a weird look but said, “Okay, I’ll see you around then.”

Zoro nodded and stepped back from the car as Usopp started it, and then waved him off as he drove away.

Left alone then with nothing but the streetlights and the largely closed strip, Zoro wandered away in search of a pay phone or any establishment that would allow him to use their phone. He began to wish he did have a shirt on then, as the adrenaline from moving everything to Usopp’s car wore off. The cold of the night did not mix well with the sticky sweat still on his skin, leaving him colder than he thought he had any right to be.

Shivering slightly and crossing his arms tightly across his chest, he caught his reflection in the glass panel of a closed storefront and paused.

There, maybe 20 feet behind him was a long, black car driving slowly after him with the headlights turned off. 

“Shit,” Zoro mumbled to himself as he turned to face it, knowing full well it was tailing him.

The tinted windows betrayed nothing about who might be in the vehicle, but he only knew of a few people who would have motivation enough to follow him after hours. When whoever was driving noticed that he had seen them, the headlights of the car came on as it slowly approached him.

Zoro stood still, equal parts curious about the intentions of the driver and unwilling to run from any sort of a fight.

If it was Crocodile and his cronies, Zoro was sure he could handle them; after all, he’d beaten Daz once, who was to say he couldn’t do it again? There wasn’t anything they could do to him short of mutilation or death that would break his spirit, but when he thought about it, those things probably weren’t out of the norm for Crocodile anyway.

As the car drove up to the curb he was standing on, the darkly tinted window of the passenger’s side door rolled down, but even still, Zoro had to squint to see who was inside.

When he saw that it was Robin, a confused feeling of fear began to manifest itself in his stomach.

Muscle he could handle with his own muscle, but Robin was intelligent. Robin was cunning. Robin was  _ frightening.  _ His muscle couldn’t fight her wit.

Seemingly sensing his unease, she chuckled and reached across the seat to open the passenger door to him.

“Need a ride, Bodyguard?” she said with a disconcerting smile. “I’m afraid I must insist.”


	14. (I Don't Need You To) Set Me Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I saw you walkin' down on the street  
> I called out from my window but you didn't hear me  
> I lay down and I tried to sleep  
> I waited for you to walk on by again  
> I don't need you to set me free'

Zoro stared, unmoving, into the cab of her car. He examined it, searched it with his eyes for anything hidden that might later come to harm him, but could only see the large, leather handbag that rested between the front seats.

He sniffled from the cold, then nodded his head towards the bag.

"What's in that?"

"A gun," she said, smile unwavering. "Sig Sauer. It's not for you, though."

Her words did little to ease his mind, but he found that to be believable; she didn't seem the type to try and deceive him that way. If she were going to shoot him, she'd be honest about it, at least.

Or, that's what he liked to think, anyway.

Still he hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he weighed his options.

He had no idea what she wanted from him or what would happen to him if he got in the car. There was no way of knowing- not until he did, a thought that chilled him more fiercely than the night air did. Stepping closer to the car, he put a hand to the hood and used it to balance himself as he stuck his head inside to see if there was anyone hidden in the backseat.

Ignoring the way the cold metal of the car stung his hand, he saw that there was no one else inside. It was just him and Robin- and whatever she wanted from him.

"Please don't make me ask twice, Bodyguard."

Her voice was quiet but stern, forcefully imploring him to heed her words and enter the vehicle. Chewing on the inside of his mouth, Zoro met her cool, calculating eyes with his own, trying his damndest to judge whether or not this was a situation he could escape should it turn sour.

He couldn't think of one, but got in the car anyway.

Despite how uncomfortable the situation was, he found that the atmosphere within the car was the exact opposite. It was warm; almost inviting, even, as the heat seeped gently through the vents directed at him. The seat itself was even heated, and was soft as he sat himself upon it. Classical music was softly playing on the radio as he closed the door and Robin began to drive.

Neither of them spoke immediately until Zoro turned to her and asked, "Where're we going?"

"Home," she said with a calculated air of ambiguity.

Puzzled, Zoro frowned.

"Yours or mine?" he asked slowly, trying to relax into the fine leather seating as she drove, picking up speed as they slowly made their way out of the downtown area. "And why?"

"Yours," Robin said with an easy smile. "I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest when I said there wasn't anything for you in the bag."

At that, Zoro tensed and immediately went on the defensive, pushing his entire form against the door and keeping his hand on the handle in case he needed to evacuate, glad at least that he was smart enough to not have buckled in. To his annoyance, she laughed at his behaviour and gestured towards the bag.

"I invite you to find out for yourself what it is, Bodyguard."

"I have a name," Zoro snapped as he stared at the bag with trepidation. "Don't guess that matters to you, though."

Robin didn't reply; just kept smiling.

Staring at the bag, he wondered what could be inside it that she wanted him to see and why she was offering it to him so freely if her pistol was in there, too. Curiosity getting the best of him, he quickly reached out and snatcheed the bag into his lap before she could make a grab for it herself. She laughed softly, but he ignored it as he hesitantly stuck his hand inside.

He felt the grip of her gun as he searched the handbags contents, passing over small things he felt weren't important until he finally took hold of what else was inside. Confused, he pulled it out and stared at the VHS tape that was in his hand.

"What's this?" he asked, ignoring the way his heart rate perked up, feeling as though he might've already known the answer.

"Unedited footage of tonight's showing," she said simply.

Frowning, he looked from the tape to Robin.

"It was _you_ who edited it?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes," she replied with a smile, never taking her eyes off the road.

Zoro stared at the cassette in his hand, unable to understand what the fuck was happening. They fell into silence as he tried to decipher the information that had just been thrust upon him.

So, Robin had edited the tape, but why? What'd she stand to gain from saving their asses like that?

"Why?" he asked slowly, vocalizing his thoughts as he turned the tape over in his hands. "Why would you go behind your boss like that?"

"He's not my boss," she said sharply, turning to give him a quick glare. "We are business partners."

"Alright, fine, whatever you want to call it," Zoro returned, placing the tape on his lap to keep himself from fidgeting with it too much. "That doesn't answer my question."

Robin didn't reply immediately as she directed her car onto the highway, her face briefly illuminated by a passing car, revealing a troubled, saddened expression.

"Because I owed someone a favor," she said at last, speaking softly.

"Who?" he asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

"Luffy."

Upon hearing the mention of his name, Zoro froze in his seat completely.

_Luffy._

Luffy was involved.

How? How did she know him?

"How the fuck do you know Luffy?" Zoro growled lowly, suddenly angry that she knew who Luffy was, immediately protective of the friend he hadn't seen or heard from in two years.

"Calm down, Bodyguard," she said, speaking evenly, yet unable to keep the melancholy out of her voice. "He helped me out of some very dangerous situations in the past. I owe him to do the same for his bassist."

Zoro's brow was furrowed tensely as he processed what she'd said, wondering what sort of situations she could have possibly been in that merited Luffy's help, or even why Luffy had helped her in the first place.

"What sort of situation?" Zoro asked slowly, and was unsurprised when Robin didn't answer, keeping her slim lips sealed on the matter.

"Whatever," he mumbled, feeling the exhaustions of the day catching up to him as he yawned.

Understanding now that he was out of harm's way, he found himself unknowingly relaxing into the comforts of the luxury car.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence as Zoro fought off his urge to fall asleep and attempted to process all that had happened to him in just a few short hours. He didn't bother asking how Robin knew where he lived, plenty aware of her resourcefulness when it came to trivial things like that. The VHS tape sat heavily in his lap, reminding him to be distrustful of Robin, knowing who she was. She had lied to her partner, after all, what was there to keep her from lying to Zoro now?

Wary and tired, Zoro cast his thoughts aside when they finally reached his apartment complex, turning in and driving slowly around to the front of his building where she stopped the car and gave him an expectant look.

Opening the door and stepping out, he held the tape in his hand and was unsure of what to do with it. It was stupid

of him, he knew, to offer it back to her, but he did so anyway.

She laughed when she realized what he was doing and shook her head, saying, "Keep it, Bodyguard; it's a gift."

Zoro didn't thank her; didn't say anything more to her as he closed the door and watched her drive off, still completely at a loss with how to comprehend everything. Shaking his head slightly, he turned to head into his building and was surprised to see Sanji there, smoking on the sidewalk, staring at him.

They stood at odds for a moment, each of them staring at the other in surprise before Sanji broke out into a relieved grin, laughing nervously as Zoro began to approach him.

"That wasn't Usopp's car," Sanji finally commented as soon as Zoro was close enough to have a conversation, but to his annoyance, Zoro kept going and went straight for the stairs. "Oi! Where're you going? I waited out here for you for _hours_ ; I want to know what happened!"

"I didn't tell you to do that," Zoro grumbled irritably, already halfway up the first set of stairs. "And I need a beer. A lot of them."

Sanji could hear the exhaustion in Zoro's voice as he dropped his cigarette and snuffed it out with his shoe, halfway regretting what he was about to say, but saying it anyway.

"I have beer," he said casually, prompting Zoro to pause in his ascent. "Import. If you want it, you have to tell me what happened."

From up above, he could hear the punk sigh and grinned when he started to come back down, the thick soles of his boots creating deep, thumping noises that echoed off the surrounding walls of the breezeway.

"Beer first," Zoro said sternly, following after Sanji as he let them into his apartment. "Talk second."

"Me Tarzan, you Jane," Sanji mimicked, lowering the pitch of his voice to match Zoro, who ignored him and went straight for the chef's couch.

As he dropped himself heavily upon it, rolling his head back onto the supporting cushion, Sanji went to get the beer he kept stored in his fridge. He contemplated how many to bring, having seen Zoro drink before, and ended up grabbing two six packs, the glasses jingling against one another as he withdrew them. Coming back into the living room, he set the beer on the coffee table before the punk and sat down at the other end, popping open a beer for himself and his guest.

With a great, exaggerated groan of effort, Zoro sat up and took the beer, downing the entire thing in one quick swig. Disgusted, Sanji pulled a face that reflected his opinion but said nothing as Zoro went for his second beer, which he finished as quickly as his first.

When he went for a third, Sanji stopped him from drinking it all down in one go and again asked Zoro to tell him about what had transpired after he'd gone.

Despite how all Zoro wanted to do at that exact moment was drink and fall asleep, he explained in his own, drawn out fashion, about how both he and Usopp had been called into Crocodile's office, likening it to being called into the principal's office when he was in school.

"Usopp nearly pissed himself," he recalled with a laugh, taking a deep sip of beer. "Honestly it was pretty funny."

He continued telling the story, expressing confusion when he got to the part about Robin helping them, which, for some reason, delighted Sanji immensely.

"I knew such a beautiful woman couldn't be as evil as you made her out to be!" he said joyfully, making Zoro frown deeply.

"She didn't do it for _you_ , idiot."

Rather than tell him about Luffy, Zoro left it at that and sat back again now that Sanji had been brought up to speed on the situation.

"So the mob won't be coming after me," Sanji said thoughtfully, staring at the VHS tape Zoro had told him about, now resting on the table amidst a plethora of empty beer bottles. "That's good."

When he turned back to Zoro to reaffirm his positive thinking, he found that the man had fallen asleep.

Sanji scowled and tsk'd his behaviour, but let him be. Standing up, he made to return the few remaining beers Zoro hadn't drunk to the fridge and then went back into the living room to stare and deliberate on what he should do with him.

He didn't mind if Zoro stayed over, and actually found that he kind of wanted him to, for whatever protective reasoning his mind was trying to convince him of. He looked worn out and vulnerable, having dealt with so much on his behalf. It was the least he could've done, but then he thought of Chopper, alone and untended in Zoro's apartment and knew he couldn't let him stay.

Zoro was snoring lightly in his seat as Sanji made a decision and went to shake him awake. The punk woke up with a slight snort and blearily looked at Sanji who gave him an apologetic shrug.

"Go take care of your dog," Sanji said. "He's been waiting for you longer than I have."

"How sweet." Zoro yawned and stretched before clumsily grabbing for his tape, knocking over a few empty bottles before he clutched it and coming to a stand, heading to the door. He paused as he opened it, turning back to Sanji to say, "Don't be late tomorrow, asshole."

"What?" Sanji said, confused as he began to clean up the bottles. "Late for what?"

"Your first lesson, idiot," Zoro said with a slightly drunken smirk before leaving.

Sanji gaped after him.

After all that had happened, after _everything_ they had been through that night, Zoro had remembered that Sanji was to have his first music lesson the next day, even when he himself had forgotten. It was, honestly, the last thing on his mind, and now it had been brought to the front.

But beyond that, he realized a little uneasily that it must've been something Zoro was looking forward to, if he'd remembered it coming out of the art show. Somehow, the fact that he was to be teaching Sanji the next day had been a prominent thought in the punk's mind as he was subjected to the consequences of having snuck him into the show. He didn't know what that meant as he dropped the bottles into his recycling bin, and found a weird heaviness manifest itself in his chest.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he stood alone in his kitchen, frowning at the feeling before retiring to his room for the night, suddenly nervous for a reason that was not yet apparent to him about how the next day would unfold.

Zoro was, evidently, excited about it; Sanji found that he was, now, almost regretting his decision to sign himself up for lessons just to spite the man.

However, there was also a feeling of mutual excitement hidden below his apprehension; a feeling he did not, and would not, acknowledge.


	15. In A Big City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'And some of my dreams are coming true  
> And some of the smoke from the other room is seeping through  
> And some other ghost in another tomb is screaming too'

Rare were the days that Zoro went in to work early. Rarer still were the days where he managed not to get lost on the way. It was the rarest day of all that saw Zoro, for the first time in all his years of working at Franky's shop that saw Zoro make it to work both early _and_ without having to ask for directions.

Together, Franky and Nami were in awe of this unimaginable feat when he arrived, the two of them unsure if they had been deposited into some sort of alternate reality where their Zoro had been replaced with a more competent version.

"Whoa man, is there something special going on today or what?" Franky had asked with a surprised laugh, to which Zoro didn't reply, but Nami soon began to recognize his behaviour.

When Zoro really focused on something, and she meant _really_ set his mind straight, Nami knew that he was capable of pretty much anything he wanted to be capable of. He just had to have the drive, the need, the _want_ to do it badly enough to do it as well as he could.

Music was one of those things.

He loved it; it was his passion, his career, his ultimate direction in life. It meant everything to him, and when he realized he could share that passion, educate other people to explore and perform it as well as he could, well, that had just amplified everything he already felt.

When Zoro showed up for work early, it was because he was excited to have a new pupil.

When he showed up unhindered by his navigational flaws, it was because he was focused.

With a slight frown, Nami knew it was because he was focused and thinking about teaching Sanji.

A thick feeling of jealousy curdled in her stomach as Zoro passed her and went to play around with the floor guitars until his first lesson of the day showed up. That feeling bubbled up every time Zoro expressed _that much_ interest in someone new that wasn't an immediate member of their group, but she managed to quell it whenever it arose by reminding herself that that part of their lives was over.

Their time together like that was done.

With a deep sigh, she began to smile again at customers as they entered and left the building, ringing up purchases as they did.

During the week, business for Zoro was slow. Most of the people he taught were younger, and had school to go to before they could get a real education by his hand. When he'd first started giving music lessons, it was hard for most people, himself included, to believe that he actually enjoyed the pursuit.

He hadn't thought he'd have the patience for it. No one really did, but when his band fell through, he hadn't known what to do with his time or talent; what other job could a punk like him have that _didn't_ revolve around playing music?

The whole thing had been Franky's idea.

Rather than let Zoro's talent waste away with disuse, he'd offered to let him teach it at his store. Zoro only accepted because Nami had said it would be good for him, and together they took positions at Super-Star! Guitars.

The first few lessons he'd taught had been awkward, sure; he really didn't have any idea about how he was supposed to teach anyone anything.

His patience did run thin at times when it became hard for him to explain concepts he understood perfectly, but couldn't find a way to relate it to his pupils. He was miserable with the work until someone _did_ learn something.

The first time someone had learnt a song from _his_ teaching had been unforgettable. The look on their face was one of triumph, pride, and excitement. It was one that realized it had creative potential, and had been turned on Zoro with such thankfulness that he'd been taken aback by how powerful of an emotion it expressed.

He'd realized then that teaching _was_ something he wanted to do for as long as Luffy remained missing, until such time he could refocus his talent on producing new music instead.

Zoro didn't care much for Sanji in particular; found him pretty annoying, if he were honest, but throughout the day leading up to their first lesson together, he couldn't keep himself from imagining how Sanji would look when the time came for him to realize his potential.

The cook would probably play it cool at first or keep it to himself. It'd probably be something Zoro would have to look for in slight mannerisms or different quirks that Sanji didn't usually exhibit.

Even throughout the other lessons he gave that day, Sanji wasn't far from his mind. He permeated his thoughts, distracted him from his fingerwork as he played, caused him to perform sloppy chords, and to even call another student by his name.

If Nami noticed his slip in professionalism, she didn't mention it until it was time for Sanji to show up.

Zoro was at her desk, leaning forward on the counter with an incredibly distracted look written plainly across his face. His eyes were directed downwards, and had a faraway look glazing them as she grinned slightly.

"You're really excited for this, huh?" she asked, chin resting in her open palm as she tried to pry him free from whatever thoughts currently held him captive.

"Shut up," he grunted distantly, and scowled when she laughed slightly.

A sadness began to creep its way into Nami's mind before she could escape it, making her grin falter for a moment before she sat back in her chair.

"You look like a kid whose mom forgot to pack him lunch." Openly teasing him began to make her feel better as he jolted free from his imaginings. "You should've told Sanji to bring you some dinner."

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped, shooting her an angry glare as he turned his back to her and adopted a cross-armed stance. "His shitty food isn't even that good."

"Better tell him that, then," she said, looking out the window with a bemused expression on her face. "I'm sure he'd love to hear your feedback."

"He already has."

"Hm."

They fell into an uneasy silence that neither one of them could really explain _why_ it was uneasy. Zoro kept leaning against the front counter, unintentionally re-routing customers to other check-out stations, while Nami stared out the window.

Squinting, she soon realized she could make out Sanji's figure approaching the store and sat up abruptly, quickly saying, "Are you really not excited _at all_ about teaching Sanji?"

Zoro shook his head definitevely: no.

"Shame," she said with a dramatic sigh, a mischievous look crossing her features as she smoothly spoke. "Because he looks pret-ty excited to me."

She delighted in the way Zoro's head suddenly snapped up to look in the direction she was lazily pointing at to see him coming up the walk.

"Oh shit," he breathed out hastily before jerking forward away from the counter and rapidly making his way back to his corner of the store, out of sight of Sanji, who entered with a smile.

"Nami, my darling!" Swooning, he all but floated into the spot Zoro had been occupying only moments before. "You are looking as beautiful as ever!"

"Hey, Sanji," she replied with a smile of her own, sitting back down into her chair. "How was the art show? We haven't really had a chance to talk about it!"

Opening his mouth to reply with a grand speech about the evening's events already perched on the tip of his tongue, ready to come spilling forward- he paused. An epiphany struck him so suddenly and so strongly in that moment that he had to take a second to recollect his thoughts before he finally spoke again.

"I'll do you one better, my sweet," he said in a voice that he hoped was as charming as his face was, hoping against all hopes that it would be enough to win her over. He leaned forward onto the counter with his arm, smiling seductively.

"Oh yeah?" she said, returning his smile with one of her own.

"I'd gladly tell you all about it, if! If your beautiful, lovely self would accompany me out to dinner tonight."

Nami had been expecting this for a while, and had a refusal already prepared for him, but as she was about to deny his request, she thought about Zoro's interest in him and accepted his offer instead.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" she giggled cutely, throwing on the charm Sanji had so desperately wanted to see from her.

"I am," he said smoothly, despite how fast his heart was beating in his chest.

"Alright, I'll do it, but I work until 10 tonight, so, tomorrow night instead? I don't work Saturdays."

_Saturdays._

The mere mention of his cursed days was enough to send a slight shiver down his spine that Nami misinterpreted as a reaction to her voice, but he repressed it as best he could and kept his grin from faltering at the suggestion.

He knew he could deny it; knew he could ask for dinner Sunday night instead, but what if she couldn't make that? What other choice did he have?

With a (slightly forced) smile of jubilation, Sanji exclaimed, "Wonderful! Terrific! The best thing I've heard all week!"

"What is?"

Zoro's gruff voice came from behind the cook, startling him out of his moment of elation. He turned on the punk with a bored expression, one that was so completely opposite of how he'd just looked at Nami that the total change was deemed impressive by her.

"Where the fuck did you come from?"

"You're late," Zoro said in lieu of an explanation. "I told you not to be."

Guiltily, Nami found herself intervening before Sanji could hash out a reply that would start an argument between them.

"Sorry, Zoro," she said, speaking sheepishly. "I was talking to him and held him up, but he's all yours now."

"Oh, my darling, you have nothing to apologize for! I'd rather spend all of my time with you instead of with this brute of a man!"

Sanji's annoyance with him was re-channeled into a doting aura as he spun back around to face Nami, filling her with reassurances and dismissing the other man entirely.

Zoro snorted and looked away boredly, unamused by his antics as Nami laughed politely, ushering him to follow after his new instructor.

"That's nice, but you should really go now."

Sanji gestured for her hand and took it when she gave it, placing a kiss on the backside of it and charming her with a smile as he finally pulled away.

"Of course! I will see you again in the better part of an hour!"

"More like 50 minutes, now," Zoro mumbled before leading them away from the front desk.

Nami watched them go into the back of the store and wondered curiously to herself how the lesson would play out, unsure if Sanji would respect Zoro enough to allow himself to be taught, or if they'd break into a fight before it was through.

Thinking about it, she picked up the receiver of the store phone and hit the extension number for Brook, who answered enthusiastically.

"Yeeeeeeeeeees? How may I help the lovely woman working the front counter?"

"Zoro's about to come back there with that new student of his." Brook's voice sounded hollow over the phone as he hummed thoughtfully to himself before asserting that yes, he had just seen them pass by. "Can you check in on them in like, 15 minutes? Just to make sure they're getting along alright?"

"Certainly I can! Do they famously not?"

"You have no idea. Thanks, Brook," Nami said with a smile before hanging up.

From the back rooms, Sanji saw Brook wave at them as they passed by his office and gave a simple wave in return before they entered through the double doors and into the secondary hall behind them.

Zoro peeked into a few of the rooms before he finally settled on one that suited his needs and brought Sanji in, the tension that had been building between them changing into something akin to indifference as the cook inspected the room.

It was simple, small, and a weird brownish grey in colour. Two foldout chairs and a couple of small amplifiers were all it contained, along with what Sanji assumed was Zoro's guitar as the man sat down in one of the seats and reached for the gig bag propped up against the wall.

Following suit, Sanji sat down across from him and noticed how the sound in the room was different from when they'd been on the floor. It was more muted by the soundproofed walls, isolating them in a confined space that held a different air from anywhere they'd been together before.

This was a more intimate space than he was accustomed to sharing with a man.

Zoro didn't seem phased by it as he unzipped the bag and withdrew the white bass Sanji had seen with him before. Plopping it in his lap, he gave the strings a few plucks before evidently remembering Sanji was there.

"So," he began, speaking slowly. "What do you want to learn, shit cook?"

That was a question Sanji had been asking himself for the better part of last night and shrugged, never really ever having coming to a sound conclusion on the matter.

"I don't know, you shitty teacher; what're you best at?"

"Bass." Zoro answered immediately and without hesitation, showing Sanji the instrument in his hands. "Then guitar."

"Bass it is, then," Sanji said, reclining back into his chair after he'd gotten a good look at Zoro's hands- er, no, the thing _in_ his hands.

Zoro nodded solemnly, as though he'd expected that that might've been what Sanji wanted to learn all along. Sanji glanced haphazardly around the room, looking for a secondary bass, but didn't see one.

"Well?" he asked, quirking a brow at Zoro who returned his annoyed look.

"Well what?"

Sanji gestured empty-handedly around the room, indicating to the other man that he had no instrument with which he could play.

"So go get one," Zoro said with a snort and a roll of his eyes.

"From _where_?" he asked irritably.

"From out _there,_ you moron. The store's full of them."

Sanji released a heavy sigh of annoyance before standing up, roughly punching Zoro in the shoulder as he passed by and left the room and subsequent hall to return to the main sales floor.

As he looked around at all the guitars, Sanji had the thought that Zoro was a damned dirty liar; most of the instruments displayed were six-string electric guitars with nary a bass in sight. How typical it was of Zoro to give him faulty instruction, he thought as he scowled. He wandered around through most of the store aimlessly, scouring the instruments for one that he could use, taking his time until he found the small, nearly hidden niche that stored a wall full of the guitars he'd been looking for.

"Finally," he muttered to himself, going to pick one off the wall when he paused, met now with another problem.

At first glance, he'd thought it wouldn't matter which one he'd picked, but beyond the hefty price tags attached to them, he noticed that there were differences between the instruments displayed.

The headstock. The tuning pegs on the headstocks were reversed depending on which bass he looked at. The strings associated with them followed suit and changed according to whichever side the pegs stood out on, confusing him further and causing him to wonder whether or not it mattered.

Frowning, he attempted to recall which way Zoro's bass had had the pegs and strings, and then picked one that matched the mental image he recalled. He held it in his hands, surprised by how light the guitar was despite its solid looks and noted how fucking _expensive_ the damned thing was.

It was an easy carry as he hauled it back into the room where Zoro was waiting, already plugged into an amp and warming up his fingers. As he sat down and retook his seat, holding the long-necked guitar in his lap the way Zoro was holding his, he was met with a frown and a severely quirked brow.

"What now?" Sanji asked with a deep sigh.

"You left-handed?" Zoro queried slowly.

"No."

"Well, you've got yourself a lefty bass. Holding it like a lefty, too."

Sanji blanched a bit as he realized his mistake, not having noticed before that Zoro wasn't right-handed.

Instead of mocking him, Zoro merely rolled his eyes and stuck his bass into a nearby guitar stand and then stood, gesturing for Sanji to pass the guitar to him.

"I'll get you a good one," he explained, appearing antsy and bored.

Wordlessly, Sanji gave the instrument over to him and watched as the punk quickly departed.

Left alone, he frowned down at himself. How had he never noticed before? Had they ever done anything together that would've even revealed that Zoro was left-handed? They'd known each other for less than a week, so there was still plenty of room for surprises like that to come about.

Eventually he shrugged it off and began to tap his fingers against his leg, a habit he'd recently come to attribute to doing whenever he had need of a cigarette. Or…

Or _maybe_ it signaled some great, hidden musical talent that lay dormant and hidden inside him, just waiting for a patient teacher to discover and nurture it into brilliance.

Sanji laughed quietly to himself at the thought of being inherently better at playing bass than Zoro was. He would've loved to put the punk in his place by being better than him at something he was good at.

He was disrupted from his thoughts when the door of the room re-opened, but looking up, he saw that it was not Zoro who had returned, but was Brook instead.

"Hello, young student! How is your first lesson coming along?"

Brook let himself into the room with a the largest smile Sanji had ever seen a man wear before. Taken off guard, Sanji floundered for a moment before answering.

"Uh, well, it hasn't actually started yet?"

"Oh?" Looking around the room, Brook seemed to notice that Zoro was missing. He cocked his head and let his smile diminish before returning his gaze to Sanji. "Where has your instructor gone?"

"To get him something to play on."

Zoro's voice came from the hall, and the two of them in the room turned to look at him as he came in, skirting around Brook to hand Sanji the guitar he'd chosen.

"Oh! Of course, how silly of me."

Brook chuckled as Sanji properly held the instrument in his hand, holding it opposite the way Zoro held his as he reclaimed his seat.

Together, the three of them occupied the room silently, with Zoro and Sanji staring at each other as Brook stared at them.

"Uh, did you need something, Brook?" Zoro asked when the man didn't leave right away.

Jumping slightly at being addressed, Brook clapped his hands together and exclaimed, "OH! Yes, I did, actually!"

"Okay," Zoro said slowly, attempting to draw the information out of the stubborn man while Sanji tentatively pressed his fingers to the strings, surprised at how thick they were. "Well, what is it? We're kind of trying to start something here."

"Right, right; do forgive me; it was about the upcoming Solstice show, but it can wait until after you're done. My apologies, dear Sanji," Brook said, bowing slightly as he asked forgiveness.

"It's no problem," Sanji said uncertainly, but it seemed enough for Brook who smiled warmly at him and then let himself out of the room.

"Fucking finally," Zoro said with an agitated sigh, leaning down to grab the cord Sanji needed to plug into the amplifier.

"What's the Solstice show?" Sanji asked as Zoro plugged him in and turned on the amp. A sharp buzzing noise was heard briefly before the punk adjusted the volume on both the amplifier and the bass in Sanji's hands.

"A recital for students. He'll probably ask if you want to play in it at some point."

"Play in it?" Sanji seemed shocked. "Play _what?_ I've just started! _"_

"Exactly. Which leads me to asking _you_ what it is you want to learn to play."

"Is- is the bass in my hands not obvious enough?" Sanji's voice was thickly laced with sarcasm as he tried to decipher whether Zoro was honestly that stupid, or was genuinely asking him _again_ whether or not he wanted to learn to play the bass.

"No, fuck- not _that_ ; I meant musically, like, what kind of songs do you want to learn, you fucking ass."

"No preference," Sanji said truthfully, shrugging disinterestedly after he'd given it a few seconds of thought. "Just teach me whatever it is you play the best."

"God." Zoro let out a stressed sigh and rubbed his temple for a moment before looking up at him again. "Punk music's what I'm best at, but there's a lot of different types _of_ punk, but I won't bother asking you which of _those_ you want to learn."

"You're so thoughtful."

"Shut up, I'll just make you a playlist with different examples and let you decide from there," he said exasperatedly. This was not how he wanted his first lesson with Sanji to go, but he would've been a fool if he'd expected it to go any other way but badly.

"So, then, what do we do for the rest of this?" Sanji asked boredly, tapping his fingers along the strings, experimenting with the different sounds they produced.

"We'll just go over the scales today; 's as good a starting place as any," Zoro replied as he slipped into his professional persona and began to teach.

It was a little hard to get the hang of it at first, because Zoro played the scales so fast and so damn well, but beyond that, Sanji was having a difficult time pressing down on the strings hard enough to get a sustainable noise that sounded good. The rough nature of the strings hurt his fingertips, and though his hands were calloused from working in the kitchens, they were calloused in all the wrong places that didn't help at all with what he was trying to learn.

Zoro himself was getting a little frustrated with his progress, but what had he expected? It was only Sanji's first day.

"Okay, look, no; you keep aligning your fingers on the wrong fret." There were only a few minutes left to their lesson session, and Zoro felt like they hadn't anything other than establishing the fact that Sanji was a true blue beginner. He could tell that the chef was honestly trying to get it, but it was hard to see that when the cook's fingers kept fumbling into the wrong frets. "Here, look; place your fingers _here."_

He leaned forward and grabbed hold of Sanji's fingers, an action that was at once suddenly intimate for no discernible reason. Sanji froze as he felt Zoro's fingers on his, positioning them correctly the way he wanted them to be and then pressuring them into pressing down on the strings appropriately.

His heart was beating fast again, thought it was, now, for a different reason. What was it? He couldn't place it and didn't like that Zoro seemed unphased by the contact that had jolted him like that. It felt wrong. It was too intimate; too personal. His hands were his most prized possession, one he didn't like being touched or appraised by people that weren't him.

And then, all at once, the contact ceased. Mentally shaking himself free of the stupor he'd been in, he saw that Zoro was giving him a queer look.

"You got that?" Zoro asked him slowly, unsure of what the cook was doing.

"Uh, yeah." _What the fuck._

"Play it for me then."

Sanji did his best to perform the scale as Zoro had instructed him, and it certainly sounded better than before, but still wasn't up to par.

"Alright, well, that's all for today then," Zoro said with a sigh. "Just, y'know, keep practicing them at home and you'll get them by the next time you come in."

"How?" Sanji found himself asking lamely, the bass in his lap feeling heavier than he remembered it being as he looked down at it. "I don't have one of these at home, you know."

When he looked up, he found Zoro staring at him with a stupidly blank look on his face.

"Oh yeah," he said lamely before going quiet.

"Yeah, you idiot."

"Huh."

Rolling his eyes, his concern about the earlier surprise contact being tucked aside for the moment, Sanji came to a stand.

"We're done now, right?" he asked, to which Zoro shrugged and nodded.

The punk too came to a stand, depositing his bass in the stand and taking Sanji's from him.

Together they left the room, though Zoro had a perplexing expression on his face that Sanji couldn't read as they passed by Brook and again came into the main portion of the store.

"Nami'll check you out," Zoro said distractedly, heading towards where he'd known Sanji had picked the bass, presumably to return it.

Confused by his behaviour, Sanji chose to deliberately ignore it as he made to return to where Nami was assuredly waiting for him, though something about him seemed off now. He wanted to see Nami, sure, but he wasn't as excited about it anymore. Another feeling of perturbed feeling of wrongness settled in him as he approached her without his usual excitement.

To look at her now, knowing they had a date tomorrow night was beginning to feel like a mistake. It hurt to think of it that way, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was the wrong thing to do after he'd shared that whatever the fuck it was with Zoro.

"How'd it go?" Nami asked, smiling at him when he reached her, oblivious to his inner turmoils.

"It went alright, I think," Sanji said, though he found he wasn't entirely sure about that.

"You think?" she replied with a laugh as she began to ring him up.

Frowning, he kept his eyes averted as she told him the price and he took out his credit card to pay, already regretting what he was about to ask.

"Er, Nami, my sweet, would you mind too terribly much if we met for _lunch_ Saturday, instead?"


	16. Take It Easy (Love Nothing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Left by the lamp, right next to the bed,  
> On a cartoon cat pad she scratched with a pen,  
> "Everything is as it's always been.  
> This never happened."'

"So, how was the show? Did you enjoy it?"

Seated opposite of one another at a small window-side table, Nami smiled encouragingly at Sanji. He returned the smile and hoped it didn't look as forced as he felt it was.

At Nami's insistence, they'd gone to a small, locally owned café that Sanji was relatively familiar with. Originally, he'd wanted to take her somewhere a bit more upscale and popular; a place where he could vouch for the quality of the food they served, but she had refused and expressed an unwillingness to support any sort of non-local chain establishment.

And while Sanji knew the owner of the Mermaid Café, he didn't know much about the menu or what they served. Nami had seemed delighted, though, when he'd brought her there after picking her up from the downtown area's community parking lot.

"It was interesting, to say the least," he said, passing their waitress a charming smile as she dropped off their drinks. He drew his coffee closer towards him as Nami went to take a sip of her tea. He traced a finger around the saucer dish of his cup absentmindedly before reaching for a sugar packet nestled in a ceramic container in the middle of the table.

As he opened it and began to pour it into his coffee, Nami set her cup down and offered him another smile.

"Oh yeah?"

There was something wrong about this, Sanji thought. Something had happened to him the other day that he hadn't been able to figure out, but had affected him so greatly that he could no longer find the energy to flirt as effectively as he knew Nami deserved. He still found her to be irresistible and absolutely darling in every aspect, but something was blocking his will to express his adoration to her.

He felt awkward, stiff, and found, ultimately, that he didn't really want to be there with her. In the back of his mind, there was another person he found he wanted to be spending his time with.

"How was it putting up with Zoro that whole time? I bet that was rough, huh?"

Sanji's heart palpitated at the mention of his name and he had to advert his eyes as soon as she'd spoken it.

"It wasn't that bad, actually," Sanji replied, swallowing the feeling down with a quick drink of coffee. "The worst part was not being able to smoke throughout the whole thing."

Nami nodded solemnly and held her cup between her hands, sipping at her drink whilst pretending that the awkwardness between them wasn't there. She didn't want to try and force the conversation if he didn't want to participate in it, but she would've been lying if she'd said she was having a nice time.

"Zoro told me you met Robin," she said, trying to give the conversation some kindling to work off of. "How'd that go?"

As she spoke, she saw again the same reaction breach Sanji's face that he'd expressed before at the mention of Zoro's name. It was a sour look accompanied with a deep frown that left him looking incredibly uncomfortable.

Sighing, he nodded almost reluctantly.

"He warned me about her," he said melodramatically, slouching over the table. "I had every intention of avoiding her, but, alas, her beauty sought me out."

As he spoke, he reached a hand into his coat pocket that was draped across the back of his chair, intending on taking out his cigarettes, and paused.

"Do you mind if I do?" he asked, glancing at Nami before he withdrew his pack.

"Nope! Go ahead," she said pleasantly, amused by the start of his story.

He smiled thankfully and pulled out his pack, taking out a single cigarette and pulling the ashtray closer towards himself.

With his cigarette lit, Sanji drew in a deep, smoky breath and instantly felt a bit better. A new energy entered him that he had been lacking previously, and he wasted no time in directing it towards his date.

"In fact," he began, easily settling into the charming personality he'd spent a great many years nurturing. "I dare think she had a bit of a thing for me."

"Is that so?" Nami said, giving him a catty grin. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, for one, it was _she_ who sought _me_ out to begin with! What woman alive is immune to my charm?" At this, he winked at Nami and blew her a kiss, to which she responded with a roll of her eye.  
"And, well, beyond that, if she _didn't_ fancy me, then why would she have gone through the trouble of bailing us out?"

Nami shrugged, entertaining Sanji's long-winded thoughts on the matter. She knew everything about what had happened that night already, having pestered Zoro about it as soon as he let her know he was home. To be honest, she was just relieved Sanji seemed to have dug his way out of whatever slump he'd gotten himself into.

"She must have fallen in love with me at first sight," Sanj continued, smiling serenely to himself. "I can find no other explanation for her actions."

"Obviously," Nami said, taking a drink of her tea. They fell into a relaxed silence as they waited on their food, listening absentmindedly to the conversations happening around them.

It was just about to become a nice lunch outing for Nami when she felt her phone buzz against her leg. She debated on whether or not she should check it now or later, but as she looked at Sanji, still lost in his fantasy, she decided she would.

Leaning to the side a bit for leverage, she managed to weasel her phone from out of her pocket to see that she had received an email from Zoro. Here she hesitated, unsure if she wanted to see whatever it was he had to say about her date. Curiosity getting the better of her, though, she opened it.

Sender: wildslutangel22

Subject: guess what I got

Message: hows the date with the asshole. look what I got

Frowning, she noticed that there was a picture attached. She hadn't even known Zoro knew _how_ to attach an image to an email, seeing as how he was so technologically inept. Across the table, drinking his coffee languidly, Sanji watched her expression as she opened the attachment and saw her face turn from shock to utter outrage in a matter of seconds.

"Oh my fucking God! I can't believe he did that!" she exclaimed angrily, fury boiling in her eyes as she slammed the phone down onto the table.

"What? Who?" Sanji said, startled and a little bit frightened by her sudden mood swing. Nearby patrons of the Mermaid Café had turned to look at what had disrupted their peaceful meals, making him nervous. "What happened, my sweet?"

"Zoro! That fucking prick!" Fuming, she shoved her cellphone across the table to Sanji, who gingerly picked it up to inspect the picture displayed on the screen.

The picture was a little blurry and there was part of a finger in the image, but Zoro was the clear focus. He was sticking his gross tongue out and holding out what looked to be a movie or concert ticket. He didn't understand what the big deal was, unless he was holding something Nami had wanted and was unable to obtain herself.

"Um," he began, unsure of what the appropriate response to this situation should be. "Yikes."

"He bought his own ticket to the Tralalaw show so he wouldn't have to pay me back," Nami pouted, sighing as she took her phone back when Sanji offered it to her. "To be fair, I was going to make him pay me double back for it, but still! Now I have an extra ticket, and he knows I hate dealing with scalpers."

Sanji didn't know what a Tralalaw was, nor did he know whose side he should be on regarding the issue, but the look on Nami's disheartened face told him he should at least try to make amends.

"I'll buy it off you, if you'd let me," he offered, despite not knowing anything about what it entailed. "It hurts me deeply to see how unfairly he treats you."

He reached out to touch the back of her hand in support and was taken aback by the sudden mirthful look of glee that shot across Nami's face.

"Oh my God. Oh my God, yes, that's _perfect!_ Of _course_ you can, Sanji! In fact, I insist."

With that, she took her hand away from under his and turned to grab her purse. He watched her root through it excitedly before she produced an envelope. The manic look in her eye frightened him to some degree.

"This is for you," she said, opening the unsealed envelope and taking out a ticket. As he took it from her and read the front, he ascertained that it must have been Zoro's ticket for whatever the hell the Tralalaws were.

Sanji took in a deep a breath to prepare to give a speech of thanks when Nami cut him short.

"Save your thanks, just- do me this one favor real quick; take a selfie with me?"

Baffled, he found he could only nod, inciting an evil grin from her as she got up from her chair, grabbing her phone and coming to stand by Sanji.

"This is going to be so good," Nami rambled excitedly, opening the camera on her phone and wrapping her arm around Sanji's shoulders, forcing them to become very close together. "Hold that ticket up, and, ready?"

Too fixated on being pressed so close to Nami's body, Sanji didn't even get a chance to see how the picture had turned out before Nami had returned to her seat. When he realized her chest was no longer pressed against the side of his face, he returned to his senses and peered at the ticket still in his hand while she began giggling menacingly, rapidly typing out an email response to Zoro.

Subject: RE: guess what I got

Message Body: Wow! I'm impressed; what'd you even use to take that picture with? That's crazy. But hey, no skin off my back, I've already got someone lined up for your ticket.

Attaching the picture she'd just taken with Sanji to the message, she hit send and could almost hear Zoro's outrage from where he sat, miles away at the work computer, smug feelings of having one-upped her transforming into abrupt horror.

"Fuck!" He shouted at the screen, face paling as he stared at the picture Nami had just sent him. "She can't _do_ that!"

Customers of Super-Star! Guitars had long since grown accustomed to Zoro's crude outbursts, but the newer ones feigned offense when they heard his unfiltered tongue. He ignored them as he studied the picture, twisting his lips in annoyance at the idiotic expression on Sanji's ridiculous face.

"That _witch_!"

"Who can't do what, Zoro?"

Recognizing Tony's voice, he tore his eyes away from the screen and reluctantly stood up, gazing down over the counter to find Tony standing there, waiting for him.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," Zoro grumbled angrily, rubbing at his forehead that had begun to ache. Coming around the desk, he looked up and around alertly. "Where's your grandma?"

"Trying to find parking," Tony said pleasantly, hefting up his guitar case.

"Alright, quick, let's go to the back before she does."

Together, subtly trying to hurry, they made their way into the lesson room they used. Tony fell into their routine easily, unpacking his guitar and plugging it into the nearby floor amp. Zoro still looked pissed, despite his assurances to Tony that he wasn't, and took a while to find his groove.

How was it that Sanji kept finding ways to interfere with his life? If Zoro had known that giving a ride to him a week ago would have resulted in all this _meddling,_ he wouldn't have done it. He could handle taking him to the art show (at Nami's absolute insistence); didn't even mind getting high with him, but, guitar lessons? The Tralalaw show? Sanji was getting far too involved in the aspects of Zoro's life that actually meant something to him.

There was nothing for it now, however, and Zoro knew he'd have to come to terms with that. If Sanji kept finding ways to get mixed up in his life then he'd either have to learn to adjust or cut the idiot out completely, no matter how attached Nami got to him. Caught up in his thoughts, Zoro almost ignored Tony when he spoke.

"Um, Zoro, about the Solstice show…"

"What, not having second thoughts _again,_ are you?" Zoro mumbled, coming out of his thoughts. The downtrodden expression on Tony's face betrayed that he was. "Aw, c'mon Tony, how many times do I have to go over this with you? I've told you plenty of times that you _are_ good enough to perform-"

"No, it's not like that this time! I just- just wanted to know if you'd sing the song while we play it!"

Zoro blanched at his request.

"No, absolutely not."

"But-!"

" _No,_ Tony," Zoro said with a sigh, explaining his logic as patiently as he could. "It'd take way too much away from your playing. The recital is supposed to show off _your_ talents, not mine."

"Yeah, I know, but, I was just thinking, the song's not really recognizable on its own, you know? With just the guitars? If you sang it, people might recognize it better!"

Tony looked so expectant and hopeful that Zoro felt a little bad turning him down.

"I can't, Tony-"

"What if I did a solo!" Tony suddenly blurt out, holding his guitar tightly in hand. "If- if I do a solo, will you sing for me then?!"

Zoro frowned; he'd been on Tony's case about improvising guitar solos for a while now. The kid was so shy though that he never would, despite having the skills to perform them. As much as he didn't want to agree to it, he found that this was a deal that he could get behind, if only because it would improve Tony's capabilities.

"I don't know, Tony," Zoro said slowly, mulling it over in his head. "It'd have to be 15 seconds long, at least."

"I can do that!" Tony said, though he appeared scared and unsure of himself.

"And you'll use chords?"

"Yeah!"

Zoro sighed again slowly before agreeing to Tony's request. He didn't want to do it; didn't really sing much anymore, though he figured his voice would be a good match for the song Tony had picked to play, even if it didn't really fit in with his usual genre.

"Alright, well, let's get to working on some structure then," he began, plucking out the tune to the song on the guitar in his hand, trying to remember the lyrics to The Prettiest Waitress in Memphis.

However, Tony, who had been looking positively jubilant a few moments ago, now appeared downcast again, prompting a comically bad chord from Zoro, who groaned and set his acoustic aside.

"Oh my God, Tony, what is it _now_?"

Fidgeting in his seat, Tony's face turned slightly red in embarrassment.

"W-well, it's just, I was thinking that…"

"That…?" Zoro prompted impatiently.

"That… that if you agreed to sing, then maybe you'd get Nami to play the drums for us, too! We'd have a full band!"

Zoro could hardly believe his ears. He stared long and hard at his pupil, taken aback by the demands he was being hit with.

"Are you serious? Tony, that is absolutely-"

"Absolutely a great idea!"

Standing in the doorway to their lessons room was Brook, looking jovial and positively enthused about the proposition at hand.

"What?" Tony and Zoro said in unison, both turning to stare at the tall anemic-looking man.

"How long have you been standing there?" Zoro asked suspiciously, squinting hard at him.

"Long enough to know that young Tony could gain some valuable insight on what it's like to play in a full band from this! Especially if he chooses to pursue a professional career in music! We would have to have you all play last, of course, so as not to outshine and deter our other performers, but it could work!"

Zoro had been about to retort and defend his stance on the matter, but when Brook explained his reasoning, he found that Tony's idea wasn't actually half bad. The kid didn't have much friends; all the ramblings from his grandmother told Zoro that much, so joining a band with his social presence would be hard for him to do under normal circumstances. This really _could_ be a valuable learning experience for him.

"Alright, fine," he said finally, relenting. Tony actually jumped up from his chair to cheer, nearly throwing his guitar to the floor in the process. "But! The solo has to be _30_ seconds."

Some of Tony's enthusiasm waned, but there was a strong look of determination on his face as he rose to the challenge.

"I can do it!" he exclaimed. "I think."

"Yes, that's the spirit," Brook said with a laugh. "Well, I'll leave you two to it then! Good luck, dear Tony, and practice hard!"

"Yes sir, I will!"

Brook gave a mock salute before he departed, walking with a light spring in his step and leaving Zoro alone to deal with the aftermath of his visit.

"How the hell does he always know when to come and fuck with with my shit?" Zoro wondered aloud, making Tony laugh before getting serious. "Alright though, for real, we've got a lot of practicing to do with only a week left to do it."

"Right!"

Zoro picked up his guitar and quickly went through a set of scales. He stared at Tony, who immediately hurried to do the same.

"So let's do it," Zoro announced as they launched into different scales.

As they resumed their practice in earnest, Nami and Sanji concluded their date. They'd both had light meals that left the bill small enough for Sanji to cover completely so that Nami only had to pay the tip, and as they stood on the sidewalk outside the café, he couldn't help but think that maybe his Saturday curse had somehow been lifted. The date had been nice.

He helped Nami into her coat before putting on his own, and together they walked towards where Nami had parked.

"You know, I'm actually glad you made this a lunch date instead of a dinner one," Nami said, making conversation as she took Sanji's arm. "I actually have a party to go to tonight that I'd totally forgotten about."

"A party, you say?" Sanji replied, hoping she was about to invite him to accompany her.

"Yeah, it's a fetish party, though; I don't think you'd be interested," she said, laughing at the look of disbelief that had appeared on Sanji's face. "Don't judge me! I'm only going because a friend of mine is performing, that's all!"

"I would cut off both my hands before I dare judge you, my darling," Sanji said in all seriousness. "I think it's wonderful of you to support your friends."

"Thanks."

A million images and imagined scenarios were manifesting themselves in Sanji's head about what Nami would be doing at a fetish party as they continued the rest of the short walk in silence. He missed the forlorn look on Nami's face as they stopped by her small, white pickup-truck and she separated herself from him, reaching into her purse for her keys to unlock the doors.

"I'm afraid this is goodbye, my sweet Nami."

Looking as pitiable and sad as he possibly could, he closed the door for her after she'd started the engine and taken the driver's seat. She looked sad as well, he thought, as she suddenly turned to him, biting her lip. He cocked his head as she rolled the window down and leaned out a little bit.

"Can I ask you something?" she questioned, speaking urgently.

"Of course," he replied, though he was a little wary about what she had to ask, her tone intimidating him.

A moment passed between them with neither of them saying anything before Nami finally spoke, abruptly asking, "Do you like Zoro?"

The warmth he'd felt during his lunch date was suddenly consumed and replaced by a chilled sort of dread he didn't want to focus on.

"What?" he asked, trying to force a slight chuckle but feeling his body lock up. "I mean, I guess I see him as a friend?"

"No, not like that. Do you _like_ him?" she repeated, staring him dead in the eye.

The distant sounds of the downtown area disappeared as he both felt and heard his heartrate increasing, hating the way it felt. The idling engine of Nami's truck rumbled steadily on, even as Sanji's thoughts raced away from him.

"Where is this coming from?" he asked, ignoring the way his voice shook a little.

Nami broke eye contact and looked away guiltily.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but the fetish party thing I'm going to tonight is actually another date."

"What?" he asked, beyond confused. Of all the ways he'd pictured his date with Nami ending, this was not even remotely close to what he had imagined.

"I don't want to date you, Sanji. I'm sorry if I've led you on; I don't mean to be a bitch about it, but whatever you're feeling for him is getting to be a little obvious."

" _What?"_

"Just tell it to me straight, okay?" she said, turning back to him with a soft smile. "Do you like him?"

"I- I don't know." Stuttering slightly, he answered honestly, becoming distraught by the conversation and the line of questioning she was grilling him with. "I've only known him a week; is that even enough? What does any of this have to do with… anything?"

"Because, I can help you."

"Help me?" His eyebrows drew tightly together as he stared at her, unsure of what anything they had been saying meant.

"If you want it."

"With _what_?"

"With Zoro."


	17. Rosemary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I heard you say you don't feel right  
> Somethin' must've changed inside  
> She said, I still love the bands and the boy down the street  
> But everybody else gives me the creeps
> 
> And there's a hole in you now  
> Like the windshield was taken out  
> And everybody's hurt, and mine ain't the worst  
> But it's mine and I'm feelin' it now'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO FRIENDLIES 
> 
> if you are interested in listening to the mixtape zoro gives sanji in this chappie, i have recreated it via spotify! the link to listen to it is [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/brostrider/playlist/56KgYxvGjgNYy3VPmMVH26)

Nami's truck had to have been the smallest little Ford pick-up Sanji had ever seen.

It was older than he was and coated in an ancient, peeling, white matte paint that revealed various rusted spots throughout the truck's body. The bed hardly looked capable enough to transport whatever it was she used it for, as the scarce space it supplied was being threatened by a toolbox Nami had somehow managed to fit in it.

It looked like a piece of junk, but he dare not tell her so.

It was ugly to behold, but sitting in the cab with her made it tolerable.

To a degree.

Inside the two-door cab was a small bench seat that looked like it could barely hold the two people it was designed for. Sanji's legs barely fit in the space between the seat and the dashboard, and the only thing keeping them separated from Nami's was the stick shift transmission that tried to exist between them.

Sitting in the truck was hard, but it was not the cause of the grief he'd suddenly been overcome with when she'd begun to question him.

He stared forlornly at the glove compartment, feeling the heat struggling to come through the air vent and, rather melancholically, wondered if this was the lord of Saturdays' doing.

Just when he'd thought his curse had been lifted, it struck down harder than it ever had before.

Beside him, Nami appeared apologetic, but didn't know what to say to try and make him feel better. She'd invited him to sit in her car with her so they could at least make an attempt to talk about his feelings for Zoro - whatever they may be- a little bit when he'd appeared on the verge of a breakdown after she'd brought it up.

Looking at him now, she felt guilty, and wondered if she should have waited to say anything about it, though, she doubted that a better time would have ever presented itself.

Still. Sanji looked absolutely miserable.

"So…" she began slowly, trying to spur him out of his thoughts so that he might try and explain them to her.

"I'm not gay," he blurted out, frowning. "I've never in my _life_ even thought about being attracted to another man."

"Sexualities aren't set in stone," she said. "They can change."

This seemed to only distress him further.

"So what does that make me now then?" He turned to look at her with a panicked look in his eye. "What happened to make me like this?"

Nami's lips twitched into a frown. She couldn't say she was a fan of his phrasing, but let it slide. Rather than comment on it, she sighed and turned away.

"The only one who knows the answer to that is you, Sanji. Maybe you were always this way, and just hadn't met a guy who peeked your interest 'in that way' until now."

"I don't even _know_ him," Sanji moaned, attempting to slouch in his seat. The dashboard prevented him from slouching, though, and ultimately made him look like a cramped fool. "I've only known the asshole for a week!"

"It only took Romeo and Juliet a day," Nami added in what she hoped was a supportive manner.

"That may be, but that's a _fictional_ love story; that whole love-at-first-sight plot was only meant to expedite the narrative, not, y'know, mimic how this stuff _actually_ works." Exasperated, he tried to find a way to lower the seat so that he could lean back a little bit, but ultimately couldn't find one. "This is reality; that sort of stuff isn't supposed to happen here."

That was true, Nami acquiesced; usually those sorts of things took a bit more time, especially in this day and age.

"I had you pegged as a real life Romeo, you know?" She spoke lightheartedly, attempting to break through his current emotional state with a joke. "You're surprising me right now."

He shrugged and laughed slightly, reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes.

"Sorry to disappoint you, my sweet," he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. Nami watched him take out a cigarette and put it to his lips before he realized he probably ought to ask. "Do you mind if I-?"

"Go for it."

Nodding his thanks, he cracked the window with the hand-crank and lit up, easily setting into his relaxing habit. Neither of them spoke for a while as he smoked languidly, each of them trying to comprehend his feelings.

On her side of the seat, Nami was locked in a mental debate with herself. There was something she hadn't yet told Sanji, but couldn't figure out if it was something that would benefit him if she were to bring it up. Perhaps it would, but there was always the chance that it would somehow make him feel worse.

Through the windshield they could watch the cars on the main road lazily drive by. She bit her lip and glanced at Sanji again, taking in his unusually depressed demeanor and made a decision.

"Y'know," she began, speaking slowly. She put her hands on the steering wheel and flexed them against the leather. "I kinda get where you're coming from."

"How's that?" Sanji mumbled, listlessly staring at a couple walking by.

Anxiously, she felt her heart rate increase as she said, "Zoro and I used to date."

Sanji blinked and turned to look at her with what appeared to be shock. Nami forced a smile. Somewhere, Zoro sneezed.

"What?" he stammered, cigarette threatening to tumble out of his mouth in surprise. "You- _him_ -?"

"Years ago, yeah," she admit, speaking with a bit more confidence than she actually felt. "Back in high school. It was… not very good, for either of us.

"He'd just broken up with his long-time girlfriend, and I'd had a crush on him for _so long-_ " She had to stop and take a breath to calm herself. Though their relationship had been short, it had been intense, too, and still sometimes took its toll on the both of them to recall what it had meant to them. "And, well, I just couldn't believe he'd date _her_ before me, that I kinda forced it on him when they finally broke up."

Sanji was speechless. His cigarette dangled forgotten on his lips as he listened to Nami's confession. She looked stricken, but was smiling fondly despite the way her voice shook.

"I _knew_ he was on the rebound. He knew it, too, but I still insisted we try. We did our best, but broke up before it got too bad that we'd hate each other afterwards, so, um, I guess what I'm saying is, if you want to try with Zoro, I have experience." She felt her eyes watering up with sentimental tears a little bit and wiped them away, laughing lightly to herself. A huge weight seemed to have lifted from her chest as she spoke. It was so relieving to share, that she hoped she could help to lift whatever weight Sanji was carrying by continuing to talk things out.

"Um," he said, suddenly remembering his cigarette as it nearly fell from his mouth and into his lap. Replacing it, he inhaled deeply and looked out the window before exhaling and turning back to her. "I don't know what to say."

"I'm not looking for sympathy, I'm just trying to tell you that I have experience. You just need to tell me where you want me to apply it."

Looking at her now post-confession, Nami seemed stronger. She shone with a new light in Sanji's eyes; one that made her trustworthy and relateable to him. Determination sparkled in her sweet brown eyes that, under normal circumstances on any other, regular Saturday, would have made his heart skip.

"Is he even- is he even _interested_ in men?" Sanji asked quietly, afraid of the answer being yes or no.

"Zoro's his own thing," Nami reassured him with a bit of a laugh. "He's _such_ a punk that he refuses to label himself, but I can tell you that he's pretty open-minded. He's not attracted to specific genders so much as he's attracted to capable people. He's dated men before."

_Capable_.

Sanji had heard that from Zoro before somewhere. He just couldn't remember where, or what he'd been talking about when he'd said it.

"Capable people? Capable how?" Sanji found himself asking.

Nami shrugged.

"Usually it's people who can match him in some regard. Strength, wit, etcetera. It impresses him, I think." Taking her hands off the wheel, Nami relaxed back against her seat and closed her eyes briefly. Opening them, she turned to Sanji and smiled warmly. "I can help you, Sanji, and I know you know that I can, but you need to tell me whether or not you plan to pursue something with him so we can give you some kind of peace of mind."

This was the longest week Sanji could remember living, but he was, inwardly, so thankful for Zeff for giving him the time off so he could live it to meet Nami. She was nothing short of god-sent; truly an angel sent to bless him in his time of need. He was about to tell her so when he thought better of it.

For once, he kept himself in check and forced himself to think.

The cigarette he'd been smoking finally reached the filter. Tapping off the ash, he flicked the butt out the window and sighed deeply.

What _did_ he want to do?

Zeff had given him the month off to explore new interests, and Zoro, unfortunately, seemed to be his primary interest as of late. But how would that play out? What would happen when he inevitably had to return to work in, what, 3 weeks' time?

Would it be worth it in the long run if he couldn't guarantee that there'd be anything left between them when it was time for him to return?

"Sanji?" Nami asked, stirring him from his thoughts. "I don't mean to rush you, and I don't need an answer now, but I need to leave soon to get ready-"

"I want to try." Sanji seemed surprised by his own voice, for his eyes widened and he sat up rather quickly, bumping his knees against the dashboard. Nami seemed surprised too, but the shock of it faded fast and was replaced with a big, broad smile.

He felt rather queasy, but if these feelings he seemed to have developed for Zoro _were_ romantic in nature, then what better way to quell or satisfy them by at least giving the oaf a try?

Sanji returned Nami's smile weakly, feeling far less confident in his person than he'd had only an hour ago.

"Alright, I'll help walk you through this, but try not to worry too much about it, okay?" she said, reaching over and grasping his arm in support. "It's nothing to lose sleep over, and, hey, if it doesn't work out, at least you'll _know_ , and that's a hell of a lot better than not knowing."

"Yeah." Agreeing, his hands fumbled out another cigarette for him to light, He took a quick, shuddering whiff before he regained some of his resolve and could muster an honest, heartfelt smile. "Thank you for this."

"Don't mention it," Nami said, taking her hand away and replacing it on the wheel. "But, like I said; I have to go. We can talk about this some more later."

She gave him an apologetic look as he quietly said "Oh," and opened the passenger door. He slid out and shut it behind him, returning her wave when she sent one his way.

"Talk to you later!" she said cheerfully through the crack he'd left in the window before backing up and pulling out of the lot, driving away as he stood alone on the pavement, smoking.

Waves of anxiety were rolling through his stomach and were beginning to make him feel ill. He forcefully reminded himself that what Nami had said earlier was true, and nothing was set in stone. If, later, he didn't feel like he wanted anything more to do with Zoro, then that was okay.

He was going to be alright, regardless of what happened between them; after all, Zoro had only been a part of his life for a week. They never need interact again if it didn't work out.

With that thought in mind, he felt a bitter sort of relief manifest itself as he returned to his car and drove back to his apartment.

As he walked through his front door he sighed heavily and removed his coat and made to hang it in the small closet that was positioned near the door.

Being in the comfort of his own apartment, Sanji did begin to feel better and almost felt foolish for being as distressed as he had been earlier. Wandering into the living room, the smile he'd allowed himself fell away when he heard the familiar sound of Zoro's motorcycle engine pulling into the parking lot.

He froze and listened to him as he let it idle, turning to look out the window that allowed him a view of the lot. As he watched, he saw Zoro finally cut the engine and take off his helmet, and even at a distance, he could see that the biker looked pissed off about something.

' _Shit,_ ' he thought, panic rising up from the dredges of his stomach to cloud his mind. Had Nami said something to Zoro?

No, there was no way- he trusted her, and she didn't seem the type to do something like that.

Then again, he'd known her less than he'd known Zoro. Could he really be sure-

Zoro was moving again, dismounting his motorcycle and pulling the guitar case off his back and then turned to stare directly at Sanji through the window. They both appeared surprised in that moment as they made eye contact, the two of them momentarily stunned until Zoro pointed, first at himself, and then at him.

Sanji didn't know what it meant, but he nodded, and watched Zoro turn away so that he could enter the building.

A loud, strong knock on his door told him that Zoro's vague pointing meant that he'd wanted to talk. Swallowing dryly, he shoved his anxieties aside and took a deep, calming breath before he went to answer it.

He forced an annoyed expression on to his face as he greeted Zoro, saying, "What do you want, asshole?"

Zoro rolled his eyes, but the pissed off expression he'd had in the parking lot had returned. Sanji ignored the creeping feeling of his insecurities trying to slowly overtake him again and noticed that the guitar Zoro was carrying was suddenly being shoved into his hands.

"What? What's this for-?" he began to stammer, struggling to hold onto the bass guitar case that had been rudely passed to him.

"If you so much as leave a _scratch_ in the finish, I'll kill you," Zoro growled, putting his helmet on the ground to pull out a cd case he'd been keeping in his leather jacket. He handed it to Sanji who took it, appearing confused, and reached down to pick his helmet up again.

"That," he said, pointing to the cd case. "Is the mixtape I told you I was going to make. Listen to it. Find something you like. And that," he repeated, this time pointing to the guitar case. "Is Shusui. You told me you didn't have anything to practice at home with, so, practice with that."

Baffled by the sudden gifts, Sanji could only open and shut his mouth, unsure of how to thank him. Zoro seemed to be waiting for him to say something as he stood there, still looking angry about loaning him one of his best guitars.

"Okay," Sanji finally said, flipping the cd case over in his hand to see if the back had a track listing. It didn't.

Zoro frowned, but seemed satisfied enough with his reply. Without a word, he turned away, walking up the stairs to his floor. Sanji stood there for a second, listening to him ascend as attempted to process the sudden generosity Zoro had shown him. Shaking himself from his stupor, he retreated back into his apartment, shutting and locking his door behind him.

He took the guitar and the cd into the living room and sat down on his couch, carefully setting the guitar case on the floor and placing the cd on his coffee table.

"Holy shit," Sanji whispered under his breath, staring baffled at the gifts.

Zoro had remembered he didn't have any instruments at home to practice with. He'd loaned him one from his personal collection so that he could. He was _actually_ invested in Sanji learning.

Realizing that Zoro genuinely wanted to help him learn made Sanji smile, but rather than dwell on the good feelings for too long, he stood up and grabbed the mixtape. Popping the cd out of its case, Sanji made his way over to where he'd last used his laptop and prepared to immerse himself in the music that shaped Zoro's life.


	18. Do You Feel It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Are you afraid, when I look your way?  
> It's easiest to stay at home  
> But then we taste it, we got to have it  
> We have no control'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this chapter requires some disclaimers ill do that in a bit but FIRSt i need to explain some things
> 
> i think ive said this before, but, for all intents and purposes with this story, im using the music and accomplishments of the gaslight anthem to serve as the mugiwara menaces music. in addition, the music of titus andronicus is serving as the tralalaws music as well
> 
> i dont own either bands music, accomplishments, or lyrics; just appropriating them for the purpose of a fan story
> 
> also, ive lifted reviews of sink or swim and the monitor to use in their respective fake lil wiki blurbs from their actual wikipedia pages lol
> 
> and LAST BUT NOT LEAST, i am embedding links to the things sanji is clicking on in this chapter in the actual story; i STRONGLY recommend you listen to the sink or swim album, but if ur not into listening to the whole album then at least listen to the single song sanji ends up stumbling on in this chapter
> 
> THATS IT TY for reading! pls leave a review if you like the story!

Sanji didn’t know what to think.

Nearly every song that he listened to off of Zoro’s mixtape sounded exactly the same to him.

A few of them stood out as being distinct, but when he loaded the cd onto his laptop and opened it with his media player, none of the tracks were labeled. None of the artists were, either. Every song he tabbed through was by Unknown Artist off of an Unknown album.

Initially impressed by Zoro coming through on his word to supplement him with music, Sanji ended up becoming more annoyed than impressed when he realized Zoro had neglected to embed any specifics in his recommendations.

How was he supposed to ‘pick out something he liked’ if he didn’t know _what_ it was he liked?

Even when Zoro was trying to help, he was, ultimately, rather unhelpful.

Sanji ended up having to jot down a few of the lyrics he could understand from the songs he did like and run them through Google to get the information Zoro had neglected to provide. He was bemused to find that one of them was by the Tralalaws; he was sure that would make Zoro angry somehow.

From there it was unclear to him what it was that kept him on Google, but Sanji spent the rest of his evening waiting for Nami to get in contact with him on the internet. He knew he should have been practicing, but the thought of touching Zoro’s guitar at the moment made him uncomfortable.

He started his night of internet searches with the Tralalaws, hoping to gain some more insight into the band Nami had invited him to see with them.

They had a website, but when he clicked on it, he couldn’t find any information about them that seemed relevant to him. Not that he knew what exactly it was he was looking for, but their website didn’t have whatever it was.

Wikipedia did, though.

‘ **The Tralalaws** are a punk rock band formed by singer/lyricist/guitarist **Trafalgar Law** along with bassist **Bepo,** drummer **‘Penguin’** , and guitarist **Shachi.** ’

There was a picture of the band together on stage, and Sanji couldn’t help but notice how sickly the singer, Law, seemed to appear. More than anything, though, he appeared pissed off. The man’s eyes were full of a burning hatred that scathed him even though Sanji was merely looking at a picture of him.

He could hardly begin to imagine what he’d be like when they saw him live.

Sanji kept reading.

**Career**

‘The Tralalaws first album was described as the sound of a “violent, overblown and irreverent” punk band in a positive review in **Pitchfork.** The band then went on extensive tours of the East and North Blue continents to promote their album with **The Mugiwara Menace,** who performed as their opening act.’

 _Mugiwara Menace_.

Sanji paused; wasn’t that the name of Zoro’s band?

He clicked the hyperlink and was greeted with a picture of Zoro’s angry face howling into a microphone to confirm that it was.

He’d found what he’d been subconsciously looking for.

‘ **The Mugiwara Menace** were a punk rock band formed by guitarist/front man **Monkey D. Luffy** , bassist/singer/lyrcist/guitarist **Roronoa Zoro** , and drummer/backing vocals **Nami.** ’

_Were._

Nami had mentioned once somewhere before that they were no longer active as a group, but hadn’t supplied a reason as to why that was.

Sanji suddenly felt like he was sticking his nose into something he shouldn’t be, as though their history together as musicians was something private he ought to leave alone. Then again, it _was_ on Wikipedia. It was public information he had every right to access; after all, none of them had ever told him explicitly _not_ to snoop around.

Under their career section, he noticed that they’d put out a number of albums together before they disbanded, when something about one of them caught his eye.

‘The Mugiwara Menace’s full-length debut, **_Sink or Swim_** , despite gaining little attention from major critics, was well met with strong reception from independent critics. Dubbed by fans as the ‘Kuina album’, _Sink or Swim_ gained positive reviews from **Absolutepunk.net** , citing singer Roronoa Zoro for having a “talent for creating lyrics and melodies that are simple and catchy, yet never forced or unintelligent.”

There was a name Sanji hadn’t seen before: _Kuina_. He had no idea what it meant for Zoro’s fans to call their debut album the ‘Kuina album’, but the name didn’t have a hyperlink affixed to it.

Contemplating quietly on the matter, he opened up a new browser tab to see what other internet sources might have to say.

Google didn’t help much when he searched for the name ‘Kuina’, but when he searched for _Sink or Swim,_ it provided him with a Youtube link to the full album.

Without hesitation, he [clicked](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9zYLE6Em7U&list=PLbO1KUytVzZqojnMA2lrv1GBww1LbCWiV) it.

As the music began to play in his apartment, he sat back against the comforting cushions of his couch and focused on what he was listening to.

“ _I took a drive today; I thought about you. I thought about a friend who passed, and how much we just went through.”_

The first thing Sanji noticed was how different this music sounded than from what he’d listened to previously on their Soundcloud. That had been uplifting and jaunty; complete with violin and more whimsical, almost tropical sounds. This was harder, heavier, and carried with it a more obvious punk sound. Zoro’s voice was gruff and almost hoarse, but it was his and it fit with the sounds they created.

“ _And if you’re scared of the future tonight, we’ll just take it each hour one at a time. It’s a pretty good night for a drive, so dry up those eyes, dry up those eyes.”_

If Zoro really was the sole lyricist, then Sanji had to admit that he did have a knack for writing compelling lyrics. There was a lot of emotion in them; emotion that Sanji wanted to know the source of. From what little he knew of Zoro, this level of depth and complexity almost seemed to go against his character.

He sat forward again and began to scroll down some of the comments fans had left under the video.

‘This album is so good!

‘I know this is the kuina ALBUM, but whats the kuina SONG again??’

                **Bartolomeo:** ’59 sound! If u were a TRUE mugiwara fan u would have known that!! Filthy casual

Sanji took note of this comment and paused the video to see if the songs were labeled somehow.

Thankfully, they were, but the song mentioned in the comments didn’t appear to be on this album. He resumed the video regardless, letting the music surround him once again.

” _Because the radio will still play loud, the songs that we heard as our guards came down. Like in the summertime when we first met, I’ll never forget, and don’t you forget: these nights are still ours.”_

‘the kuina song is good but does any1 have a link to the tashigi song? My fave and I cant find it anymore!’

                **Roronoa Zoro:** don’t call it that.

Sanji’s eyebrows rose up when he saw that Zoro had actually replied to one of the comments. The comment thread had been made two years ago, but the fact that Zoro apparently even knew how to comment wasn’t what interested him; it was the fact that he’d bothered to comment at all that was interesting.

Expanding the thread, he saw that several people had provided the original commenter with a link. Some of the comments said that the band had taken the song down because of its affiliation with whoever ‘Tashigi’ was, and that Zoro didn’t want that association between them to exist. Fans still seemed to call it that regardless, though.

He clicked on a few of the links he saw, but a lot of them were dead. He’d have to remember to look into that later, however; he already had a lot he wanted to research that he needed to check out first.

_“And I’m burning up the night she died; I’m putting every last picture aside. I’m gonna say what I need to say in my very last letter to you.”_

Tabbing back into Wikipedia, Sanji continued to let the album play out as he navigated back to the bit about their first album.

‘Roronoa Zoro was given free reign as far as subject matter was concerned when writing _Sink or Swim_. It was theorized that Monkey D. Luffy gave him full creative control so Zoro would join the band, as he was more interested in working as a solo artist at the time. The album was created as a tribute to the singer’s late childhood friend Kuina, though he continued to write other songs about her later on in their career.’

Well, that was sad. Sanji wasn’t sure what to think about it, but was inwardly glad that it signaled Zoro’s ability to feel deep and long-lasting emotions. Not that that was what he _wanted_ from him, but, it was nice to know.

Just in case.

_“But I- I wish you knew her now; she’s a better side of me now, and I’m doing the best I can. It’s what you wanted.”_

Sighing, Sanji checked his phone to see if perhaps he had missed any calls or texts from Nami, but saw that there were none. He didn’t want to bother her with his problems, but she _had_ offered to at least listen to them. How much longer would he have to wait for her to get in contact with him?

Then again, she was probably enjoying herself too much to bother with him at the moment, anyway. Which was fine, of course; she had her own life to live without getting too involved in his.

_“And the reasons always fade, and the pain gets out some day. So I’m saying my goodbyes to your deep blue eyes ‘cause I don’t know how to say, ‘Stay still in the pain. Stay still in the pain’.”_

Switching back to the Youtube host of their album, he closed it without letting the album finished. Sanji no longer felt comfortable listening to something Zoro had created that was so personal to him, regardless of whatever public platform he’d chosen to put his feelings into. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead for a moment before he went and looked through some more of the comments fans had left on the video.

‘This was my first exposure to the band. I gotta say it isn’t really my favourite, but I can respect their sound. The vocals are REALLY rough, but the songwriting is good. The sound is not too hardcore, and it reminds me of late 80s/90s punk. I liked that not all the songs sound the same, since that is usually a problem in this genre. There is obvious musical talent in the band, but the vocals turned me off.’

Sanji laughed out loud as he read the review, equal parts relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was struggling with the fact that all punk music seemed to sound the same, and humored that the guy took issue with Zoro’s singing.

When he clicked the thread, a bunch of fans came to Zoro’s defense, arguing against the original commenter and trying to change his opinion. That was alright; it was good to know that he had a loyal fanbase that supported both him and the band he was creating for.

He let his laughter die off when one of his fans suggest that the original commenter take a look at Zoro’s personal Youtube page.

‘its different from the stuff he records with the mugiwaras. A lot of it is acoustic so u might like it better’

“Fuck,” Sanji muttered.

He didn’t want to pry any more than he already had, but the temptation to see what sort of content Zoro would be recording on his own was too great. Against his better judgement, he followed the link and was directed to Zoro’s personal Youtube page.

The profile itself was blank. There was no ‘About’ information filled in, and the last video that had been uploaded had been done roughly three years ago. He had tons of uploads that spanned over the many years he’d been actively uploading, each of them garnering over 40,000 views, which, in and of itself was impressive.

Sanji knew he was digging too deep into Zoro’s history; if he’d found out that Zoro or anyone else was doing the same to him, he would’ve been pissed. As he scrolled through the thumbnail previews, he couldn’t stop himself from [clicking](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vedyEffvzRA) on at least one of the older videos.

True to the comment that had directed him here, the video only featured Zoro sitting on the edge of his bed with the camera focused on the acoustic guitar in his hands. His face wasn’t visible from the way he’d set it up, as he’d obviously wanted the primary focus to be more on the music than him.

“ _Well I wonder which song they’re gonna play when we go; I hope it’s something quiet and minor and peaceful and slow.”_

His voice was a lot softer in this recording. It wasn’t gruff or coarse like it was when he sang with the Mugiwaras, and clashed with what Sanji knew about his rough nature. This was, as the opening lyric had suggested, a quiet song. A respectful song.

_“And I wonder, were you scared when the metal hit the glass? See, I was playing a show down the road when your spirit left your body.”_

A chill coursed through Sanji that made the hair on his arms stand up when he heard this lyric. He quickly checked to see what song it was he’d decided to click on and discovered that he’d landed upon an acoustic recording of _The ’59 Sound._

The Kuina song.

_“And they told me on the front lawn; I’m sorry I couldn’t go. But I still know the song and the words and her name and the reasons. And I know ‘cause we were kids and we used to hang.”_

 He was too invested in it now to close out of it. If anything, he felt it would be disrespectful to her memory if he did at this point.

_“Did you hear the old gospel choir when they came to carry you over? Did you hear your favourite song one last time?”_

Zoro’s prowess with the guitar was highlighted with the way he had the camera fixed. It focused solely upon the guitar, and the way his fingers ran across the fretboard to pick out the chords he needed was impressive to his untrained eye.

Sanji ignored the way Zoro’s voice shook when he reached the chorus.

_“Young boys, young girls. Young boys, young girls. Well, you ain’t supposed to die on a Saturday night, ain’t supposed to die on a Saturday night; you ain’t supposed to leave my life.”_

The rest of the song progressed along the same lines, repeating the chorus a few times before Zoro eventually slowed down until the song was finished. He stood up in the recording to turn the camera off, and then Sanji was left staring into the reflection the dark screen provided.

Feeling as though he’d done enough digging around into Zoro’s life for the night, Sanji shut his laptop down and then closed it. He set it aside on the coffee table and then stood up to stretch, deciding he really needed a cigarette.

He walked to the window that looked out onto the parking lot to make sure Zoro and Chopper weren’t out there before he went to put on his coat and step outside of his apartment.

It was dark out, but he wandered over to where a street light cast a bright light on the sidewalk before he lit up. He inhaled the smoke deeply, feeling the awful relief it provided him flood his body. In an instant, he was much calmer than he had been.

There was a lot he still didn’t know about Zoro, and of course he _wanted_ to know all he could about the man, but in moderation, and at his own pace, and with Nami’s help.

As he exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in, he glanced at his car. He cast all his guilt and blame upon it, for it was, after all, the leading cause of how he’d become mixed up with Zoro in the first place.

“Goddamned Saturdays,” he muttered, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette.

A vibration in his pocket stirred him out of his thoughts, but when he pulled his phone out of his pocket, thinking it was Nami finally calling him, he frowned when he saw that it was Zeff instead.

He hesitated in answering, frowning at the shitty picture he had for Zeff’s contact as it appeared on the screen.

What the hell could the old man possibly want from him?

“What, calling to beg me to take my job back already?” Sanji said in lieu of a greeting as he answered the call. “It’s only been a week, shitty old man; don’t tell me the Baratie went down without me.”

He heard Zeff grunt, dismissing his insults easily without addressing them.

_“No, you ungrateful little shit. You break your dumbass curse yet?”_

“You’re actually calling to check up on me? I’m flattered,” he replied, taking a deep drag off his cigarette. “It’s also none of your goddamned business.”

 _“I’ll take that as a no,”_ Zeff said. Sanji bristled. _“You get a hobby then?”_

He wasn’t sure why, but the question made him hesitate. Technically, yes, he had picked up a new hobby in the week he’d been out of work, but it felt weird to claim it as his own. Sanji really only felt like he was borrowing it off of Zoro, like he wasn’t really putting himself into it, but was instead only doing it because Zoro liked it.

“I guess,” he ended up saying. The faux attitude he usually used when speaking with Zeff dropped from his tone. When he replied, he spoke quieter. “I made some friends.”

_“Huh. That’s good. I been telling you to do that for years.”_

“Fuck you,” he said, but there was no actual anger in his voice.

_“Uh-huh. See you in three weeks, eggplant.”_

Sanji pulled the phone away from his ear as Zeff hung up and returned it to his pocket. He absently wondered what Zeff would think of him if he knew the entirety of his situation.

“Probably wouldn’t give a shit,” Sanji said with a sigh. He knew he wouldn’t; it was only himself that was taking issue with it.

He kept on standing there smoking until he reached the filter. Casting it to the sidewalk, he stepped on it to ground out the ember before picking the butt up to throw away.

He wished that phone call had been from Nami, but Sanji knew that if she didn’t end up calling him tonight, then she’d likely do so first thing tomorrow. With another withered sigh he returned to his apartment and got ready to lay down. After all, he had to be well-rested in order to tackle the conversation he was going to have with Nami the next day.


	19. Karuna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'They checked my flesh  
> They checked my heart  
> They can't detect my faulty parts  
> But they say you'll heal me  
> Can you heal me?'

For what must have been the third time since she'd called Sanji that morning, Nami apologized.

"It's just, I got pretty wasted," she admitted with a sigh, walking slowly through her kitchen to prepare herself some coffee. "And I ended up bringing my date home with me, and, well, you know how that goes."

" _I don't mind! I'm just flattered you remembered to call me at all; you really are so sweet!"_

Despite the early hour, Sanji already seemed to be running on full energy, which at first had been kind of annoying, but was now starting to become tolerable. He'd been so chipper when she'd first called that, for just a moment, Nami'd thought that he'd gotten over his issues himself.

But whenever she started to mention Zoro, Sanji would either abruptly change the subject or stop talking altogether. As if his forced attitude wasn't annoying on its own, the fact that he was unwilling to confront his problems was beginning to wear her down as well.

Ignoring the monumental headache her hangover was causing her, she did her best to keep herself in a positive mood. She'd been worried at first that his attitude was because he was upset with her for neglecting to call him like she'd promised the night before, but she was sure now that it was just because he was struggling.

Barefoot, she stepped as quietly as she could across the linoleum flooring through the kitchen. Her skin stuck and peeled with each step she took, and though the action hardly made any noise, she felt like her date, still sleeping in her bedroom, could probably hear it.

" _How was your date, by the way? Did he treat you as well as I did on ours?"_

Sanji had been casually trying to get details from her about her evening throughout the duration of their conversation. He'd been subtle about it at first, but when he realized subtly was getting him nowhere he began to ask about it directly. She wouldn't have minded so much if she didn't know that he was just using it as an excuse to avoid talking about his own romantic issues.

"My my," Nami teased, tucking and holding her phone between her ear and shoulder as she spoke. "Is that jealousy I'm sensing?"

She heard him scoff as she filled the Keurig machine with water and then sifted through the pile of k-cup coffee pods she kept to find the flavor and strength she wanted.

As she turned it on and began to wait for the water to heat up, she set the phone down on the counter briefly to hoist herself up to sit beside the coffee maker.

" _I'm just making sure that the standards a woman of your caliber must have, have been met!"_ Nami laughed quietly at his words as she picked her phone up to hear the tail-end of his rant. _"_ Especially _since you brought the man home!"_

A cheeky grin crossed her face that Sanji couldn't see.

"Not that it's _any_ of your business, but, yeah, I'd say my standards were met," she mused, stretching out her legs. "But, hey, enough about me; we both know that this conversation isn't supposed to be about me and my romantic interests."

That shut him up, but if he was going to be direct with her, then, well, she'd just have to be direct with him in return.

Waiting for Sanji's response, Nami yawned and stuck her k-cup pod into the machine once it alerted her that the water had finished heating up. Almost as if called in by the machine itself, Nami's sister appeared in the kitchen.

Fully dressed and in the process of tying her dyed blue hair up into a bandanna, Nojiko quirked her brow when she noticed Nami was on the phone.

"Who're you talking to?" she half whispered, half mouthed.

"New friend," Nami quietly replied before muting herself on the phone so Sanji couldn't hear them. "How is it you _always_ know when I'm making coffee?"

"Who's the new friend?" Nojiko asked, ignoring Nami's question as she approached, applying the finishing touches to her hair.

"Some guy Zoro found at the Sunny." She took her filled cup of coffee out of the machine so Nojiko could use it and set it aside to cool. "He's having like, an identity crisis of sorts."

"How kind of you to be there for him."

Nojiko's sarcasm made Nami frown.

"It is _way_ too early for you to be throwing this much attitude at me," Nami said, angrily taking a sip of her coffee, which ended up burning her tongue. "Fuck, ow. What'd I do this time?"

"Put some pants on," was all her sister had to say as she set up their coffee machine to start a brew for herself.

As Nami was about to retort with, no, she would absolutely not put on pants and would, in fact, walk around the house all day in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear if she wanted, Sanji ended his silence.

" _Sorry. I just don't know how to really approach it."_

"That's okay," Nami said, giving Nojiko the stink eye before she realized she was still muted. As she unmuted the phone, she repeated herself. "That's okay. I know it can be tough."

She was aware of Nojiko watching her and listening in to the conversation as she waited for her coffee. Giving her a scowl, Nami slid off the countertop and grabbed her mug and wandered away into their living room.

Settling into her favourite armchair, she sighed contentedly as she took another sip of coffee and relaxed into the cushions. The mug warmed her hand as she held it, eventually forcing her to place it on a side table when it grew to be too hot. Alone in the room and finally able to start self-medicating her hangover, Nami could give Sanji her total and complete focus, though it seemed as though he'd clammed up again.

She wondered if there was anything she could do to help ease him into talking openly with her. As it stood, it was obvious he wanted her help, but didn't know how to make himself available to it. His pride or whatever it was was getting in his way.

"I have an idea," she said, sticking her tongue out at Nojiko as she passed through the room and out the front door. "A way to make this easier to talk about for you."

There was another patch of silence on the line before he said, " _Okay."_

"And, hey, if you don't want to, you know that's okay, right? We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."

" _Thank you for your concern,"_ he said with honest relief. " _I really appreciate everything that you're doing for me."_

Nami leaned up out of her chair for a moment to grab the television remote. She pressed the power button and then immediately muted the TV as it turned on, fulfilling her desire to have something going on in the background that she could offhandedly watch.

"I'll just have to have you return the favor someday," she remarked casually, flipping through the channels until she found one that was airing some cartoons. "But yeah, it's no problem. _Anyway_ , back to my idea.

"You know the game 20 questions, right?" she asked, and once she had gotten affirmation that yes, he did, she continued. "Well I was thinking we could do something like that, except instead of asking questions like to try and figure something out, we ask them back and forth to figure each other out.

"I'll ask you a question, you answer it, and then you ask me something. It can be about anything, but we both have to answer, no matter what the question is. Fair?"

It was the only thing she could really think of that would help ease him into finally having a conversation about Zoro. Offering and demanding total and complete honesty was going to be hard for the both of them, especially since they were near strangers to one another, but it would definitely serve to bring them closer as well.

This way, she'd get to know more about Sanji and whether or not he really was attracted to Zoro in some fashion, and he'd be able to trust her without issue.

They just had to be honest with one another, which would likely be easier said than done.

" _Is there a question limit?"_ he asked.

"Let's start with five for now; see how well it works out."

" _Okay_."

Scratching at her undercut, she mentally noted how long it was getting and hoped she would remember to ask Nojiko to shave it back down for her later.

"You go first," she said, grabbing her cup of coffee again and drinking from it readily.

There was a pause as Sanji thought of what to say next. While he was quiet, she thought up some questions of her own as she waited, wondering what it was he would ask her first.

" _You're sure it can be about anything?"_ he asked hesitantly.

"Yep. Anything."

Her eyes were directed towards the TV, watching whatever child's animation was being broadcast when he finally asked his first question.

She was momentarily caught off guard when he said, " _Who's Luffy_?"

It was her turn to fall silent as she processed his question. Briefly stunned, her vision blurred out of focus before she shook herself out of the slight stupor.

"Um, wow," she said, taking in a deep breath as she set her coffee aside. "Going all out on question one, huh?"

" _You said anything,"_ he said guiltily. " _If that was out of line, then I apologize-"_

"No, no, it's fine, I just- just wasn't expecting _that_."

Leaning back into her chair, Nami ran a hand through her hair. Sanji didn't know it, but his question was difficult to answer. There was just _so much_ when it came to Luffy that she rightly didn't know how to take what she knew about him and turn it into a satisfactory answer for him.

Honestly, she'd expected Sanji to ask something about Zoro, _not_ about one of her old bandmates, which led her to wonder what exactly it was he wanted to know about him. Did he want to know who Luffy was in general, or who Luffy was to them specifically?

"Luffy was- _is -_ " Sighing in frustration, Nami furrowed her brow and blankly stared ahead in an attempt to collect her thoughts. Where had Sanji even learned of Luffy's existence to begin with? Though, she _had_ told Sanji to look up their band in the past, so it wasn't unlikely that he'd found out about him indirectly from her.

"He started the band," she finally said, speaking slowly when her eye wandered over to where she kept a flag that had been detailed with their band's jolly-roger logo. "Our band; it's his."

All three of them had gotten a flag emblazoned with their logo once the Mugiwara Menace had taken off and started to become popular. The flags were a reward and a memento for successfully recording their first album together; a reward the three of them prized highly in their own way.

Zoro hung his in his bedroom, Luffy used to have his tied to the antenna of his car, and Nami kept hers framed in the living room, just above their fire place beside a large portrait of her mother.

They were, the three of them, united by the jolly-roger's grin.

"A few years ago his brother died and he went away because of it," she continued, her gaze fixed upon her flag. "It was really bad- the rest of us were on tour, and we knew something was up with Ace, but we all kind of hoped whatever it was he was mixed up in would just- resolve itself, you know? Luffy didn't think that way, though; said he needed to leave about halfway through to check on him but his brother died almost as soon as he got to him. No one's seen or heard from him since."

It hurt to talk about. She didn't even really want to, but part of her hoped that Sanji would recognize how difficult the subject was for her and be able to unburden himself the same way when it was his turn to answer an invasive question.

"He promised he'd come back, though. So that's what Zoro and I are doing right now. Waiting for him to come back."

She had to wipe away some wetness that had begun to creep out of her eyes. They all knew they'd handled Ace's situation poorly. There was so much more they could've done for him if they'd just tried. Nami wasn't even sure why they hadn't tried harder for him, especially since it'd been super apparent that he wasn't doing alright.

And even though they hadn't heard from Luffy in _years_ , Nami still retained the belief that he would come back when he was ready, regardless of his current Richey Edwards status. She knew that he didn't blame them for Ace's death, but likely blamed himself and needed to learn how to live with it as a result.

" _I'm sorry to hear that,"_ Sanji finally said after a quiet moment. " _But thank you for sharing that with me._ "

There was more to Luffy than just that, but it was all she felt she could say without breaking down entirely. Nami sniffled and took a moment to collect herself. Walking back in through the front door, Nojiko noticed her upset appearance and quirked a brow, but Nami waved her off before she could ask about it.

"Of course," she said, speaking to Sanji as her sister passed by, giving Nami another odd look. "Ready to answer my first question?"

" _No,"_ Sanji replied, making them both laugh a little. " _Of course I am."_

With the mood lightened just a bit, Nami drank more of her coffee before shifting around in her seat.

"Okay. My question to you is this: what is it that you like about Zoro?"

Over the line, she heard Sanji splutter and cough out whatever it was he'd been drinking previously. She couldn't help but laugh as he struggled to clear his throat and felt her creeping sadness dissipate.

" _I knew that was coming,"_ he said, speaking hoarsely, making her laugh again.

"So you must've thought up an answer then, right?"

Genuinely curious, she hoped Sanji would take the question seriously.

" _Uh. I have, but, honestly? Nothing."_

"What? Are you being serious? We agreed we had to answer honestly!" Frowning, she couldn't help but be annoyed by his answer, especially after she'd opened up and said so much to him.

" _I did! I'm sorry, my sweet, but that's my honest answer,"_ he said. " _I've thought about it, and I think… I actually hate him?"_

"Wow," she said, bitterness seeping into her voice. "Well, there has to be _something_ , otherwise you wouldn't be, y'know, in 'like' with him."

" _I don't know why I am."_

With a frustrated sigh, Nami sat up from her slouching position and crossed her legs over the cushion. Her headache that had slowly been going away started to return with how agitated she was becoming.

"Is it… his talent?" she asked exasperatedly, desperately grasping at straws, trying to find anything at all that had attracted Sanji to Zoro.

" _I think he is talented, but no."_

Nami groaned.

"Well… is it his attitude? His 'fuck off' demeanor?"

"… _No, absolutely not."_

"Do you think he's handsome?"

" _Oh God, no-"_

"Then what?!"

" _I- I don't know!"_

"Ugh, well, there goes the rest of my questions," she said bitterly.

Angry that she'd sped through them all trying to pinpoint where his attraction had come from, she slouched back into her seat and unmuted the TV. She kept the volume down low enough so that Sanji probably couldn't hear it and waited for whatever it was he had to say next.

" _There was one thing,"_ Sanji said around a sigh, speaking slowly and in a manner that sounded as though he were ashamed of himself.

With her interest piqued, Nami looked away from the television, but couldn't help but sound half-hearted when she said, "What thing?"

" _It seems… really trivial, now that I think about it, but it's really the only thing I can think of._

" _When I had that lesson with him the other day, he… touched my fingers. Maybe it's because I work so much with my hands, but when he did, I- I don't know, something happened. I think about it a lot,"_ he admitted with some reluctance.

His attraction to Zoro wasn't as cut and dry as Nami had initially thought it'd been, which would likely make things more difficult down the road, but this made more sense. Just the other day Sanji had been trying to convince her that he'd never had feelings for another man like this before, so obviously Zoro must have done something extraordinary for Sanji to be attracted to him so strongly in such a short amount of time.

"Your hands?" she said, quirking her head in thought. "That's interesting."

" _They're important to me,"_ Sanji mumbled. " _They're my livelihood, and he was… gentle."_

Nami could practically feel him cringing to himself as he spoke to her about it, but this was the reciprocated honesty she'd been looking for when she started their little questions game.

"I know it's hard to believe, but sometimes Zoro's really considerate. He may seem like a blockhead a lot of the time- and he is!- but he's also fairly decent. He's not always the asshole he makes himself out to be, I mean, hell, there was a reason I dated him."

She'd meant for it to come out as a joke to try and lift Sanji's mood, but he didn't laugh. Instead, he asked, " _Why_ did _you date him?"_

If Nami had thought his first question was tough to answer, his second one turned out to be ten times worse. Her shoulders slumped as a forlorn expression took over her face. These weren't the kinds of questions Nami had figured Sanji would be asking, and was definitely not prepared to answer.

" _I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that,"_ he said quickly when she lapsed into silence. " _That one_ was _out of line."_

"Yeah, a little bit," she agreed, forcing herself to laugh a little to ease the sudden tension their conversation had accumulated. "But I would have."

" _I know."_

Their speech stalled as they each tried to deal with the awkwardness created by Sanji's question. He berated himself mentally for distressing Nami at all and decided he no longer felt up to the task of finishing the game they'd started.

" _Nami, my darling, thank you for calling me. I feel much better about… everything after having listened to your voice for so long, and I am deeply, truly sorry for upsetting you at all."_ The sincerity in his voice was genuine as he apologized. Nami took note of it, and was appreciative of how genuine he was as a person. She needed more friends like that. " _I think I'll ask you my remaining questions another time, though, to save you any further grief that I may accidentally cause."_

"Trust me, you've done about the worst you could do already," she said with a smile, speaking in a tone that would hopefully let Sanji know that she wasn't really all that upset with him. "And that's fine, but I'm counting that question about Zoro and I as your second, which leaves you with three."

" _Fair enough,"_ he said, sounding far more relaxed than he had previously. " _I'll talk to you later my sweet, gracious darling."_

"Later, Sanji."

Upon ending the call, she dropped her phone onto the side table and groaned, rubbing at her eyes. The coffee she'd been drinking was growing cold as she picked up the mug and drank from it, and it was then that she realized Nojiko was standing nearby, watching her.

"How long have you been there?" Nami asked crossly. Nojiko's attitude from before still had a negative impact on her overall mood.

"Long enough to find out new guy has a crush on Zoro," Nojiko replied flippantly, entering into the room and taking a seat on the couch next to Nami's chair.

"You can't tell him," Nami said hastily, glaring daggers into her sister, who took the remote and turned the TV off.

"Calm down, I wasn't going to."

With the TV off, Nami understood that they were about to have a serious conversation. Already mentally taxed from having to deal with Sanji and his pent up problems, she groaned and sunk as deep as she could into the confines of her chair.

"There's a lot of new people in your life lately," Nojiko began, speaking calmly. She kept her eyes on Nami, who kept hers focused on the cooling cup of coffee in her hands. "You didn't tell me you were going to bring a girl home with you last night."

"What was I supposed to do?" Nami retorted, unable to keep her voice from sounding angry. "Tell her, 'hang on, I've got to call my sister and let her know you're sleeping over to make sure it's okay'?"

Nojiko remained calm and impassive through Nami's outburst, blinking at her slowly when she'd turned to yell at her.

"Relax, I'm not mad," Nojiko replied. "And no, I'm not saying you should have done that. I'm saying that you should've told me you were seeing someone at all. You're starting to cut me out again."

"It's not like I've been keeping her a _secret_ ," Nami argued, trying her best to keep her voice as level as Nojiko had managed to keep hers. "And I've really only known Sanji for a week!"

"And your girlfriend?"

"We're not-" Nami spluttered, taken aback by the direct language Nojiko had decided to label them with. "Well, not _yet_ , but, no! We aren't there yet."

The look on Nojiko's face told her that her answer wasn't satisfactory. It also told her that she'd hurt her sister somehow by withholding the fact that she had been actively seeing someone.

It'd never been her intention to keep it from her, but there honestly hadn't been much of a chance for her to tell Nojiko she'd started dating again anyway. Their schedules were just so different now that Nami was working for Franky and Nojiko was busy tending to the farm, that there simply wasn't enough time for it. The only times they ever really got to hang out or do anything together anymore was when they went to concerts or Nami had the rare day off.

She could see where Nojiko was coming from, but at the same time it frustrated her because she knew she hadn't done it on purpose.

"Her name's Vivi," Nami said quietly in an attempt to placate Nojiko's want for information. "And I wasn't trying to _hide_ her from you, it's just hard to find the time to tell you something like that without it seeming insincere, y'know? I didn't want to just do, like, a drive-by and say hey, I met someone without being able to really talk to you about it."

Nojiko's lips twitched downwards as she sighed and looked away, but she seemed to understand where Nami was coming from. There wasn't much either of them could do to solve their communication issues at that point, given their respective situations.

"You don't _have_ to work at that store, you know," Nojiko eventually said.

"I know I don't," Nami said, setting her coffee aside. "But I want to. I like being around the music. I like being around Zoro."

Even though she told herself she no longer harbored romantic feelings for him, she still felt a strong need to stay involved with his life. Without Luffy there to give them a reason to be together, she was afraid that there wouldn't anymore reasons for them to hang out and keep being friends.

She'd explained this fear to Nojiko several times in the past, and despite the many assurances Nojiko gave her that Zoro wouldn't just drop off the face of her earth like that, the fear remained in the back of her head like seeing and knowing that you've squished a spider, but unable to find it's corpse afterwards.

"Speaking of Zoro," Nojiko said slowly, attempting to keep the conversation from being a repeat of similar conversations they'd had in the past. "How does new guy crushing on your man make you feel?"

"I hate that you call him that. He's not my man," Nami said sharply.

"Regardless, my question still stands."

"I don't care. Zoro's allowed to see other people; I am, after all."

"Then you should invite new guy to his hockey game tonight." The look of surprise Nami had on her face made Nojiko laugh. "What, did you forget he was playing?"

"No, I'm just surprised that you actually had a good idea for once," Nami teased, grabbing her cellphone to type up a quick text message invite to send to Sanji.

A bit awkwardly, they settled back into how they usually interacted with one another, much to their mutual relief. Sanji replied to the invitation with hesitant confirmation, to which Nami offered to pick him up and drive them all to Zoro's game together.

She assured him that, even though he had next to no knowledge about the sport, he'd have a fun time just hanging out with her and watching him play. With their evening planned and her relationship with Nojiko on the mend, Nami retreated back into her room where Vivi was still sleeping and got into bed beside her.


	20. We'll Find Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Do your actions mention your heart's intentions?  
> We'll Find Out  
> Is your mind mistaken? Is your conscience not at ease?  
> We'll Find Out  
> Do you strive to deny each kindred spirit in the room?  
> We'll Find Out  
> And is your highest pleasure now, the misfortune of fools?  
> We'll Find out'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have wanted to write this and the next chapter almost as soon as i came up with the idea for this story over three years ago  
> AND NOW
> 
> it is upon us
> 
> ARE U PREPARED  
> we'll find out

He would have been lying if he said he didn't have an interest in sports. Sanji was a competitive person by nature, and used to believe that if his career in culinary arts didn't work out for him he could easily find a place for himself in the athletic world.

Sanji enjoyed soccer; he knew the ins and outs of _that_ sport particularly well. He'd been good at it when he played as a kid, and even made the high school varsity team when he tried out for it. Occasionally he'd allow himself to fantasize about having an alternate life as a super star soccer athlete, complete with the women, fans, fame, and gratuitous amount of money- but he was, ultimately, grounded by his current profession.

He knew a lot about wrestling, too. Hell, he'd even had that phase in middle school where he'd been a hardcore WWE fan and started making up his own signature moves to use. To say he'd been devastated when Zeff had told him it was all fake would have been an understatement; he'd almost started to cry before he was told about a sport where the violence was real and unscripted. A sport where just about anything could happen, and involved more strategy than boxing or mixed martial artists used in their fights because they had to rely on the other players on their team.

Hockey. A team game where _every_ player was encouraged to throw punches if it came down to it.

It was one of those sports that Sanji knew next to nothing about, except for that it had a reputation for being notoriously violent. In order to prove to him that hockey violence was real, Zeff had shown him a video where an unfortunate hockey player had gotten his jugular slit during a game.

Sanji couldn't forget the absolute geyserof blood that had spurted forth from the player's neck, painting the ice red even as the announcers casting the game panicked and freaked out. Ever since then, he'd gotten the impression that hockey was a dangerous game full of innumerable risks that people should probably try to avoid playing.

That being said, 9.9 times out of 10, hockey games were resolved without any blood being shed. Injuries of that dangerous caliber were rare, and leagues everywhere had taken precautions to protect the brave souls who played the game.

His excitement for the game lasted up until he'd realized that not every game played involved life-threatening injuries. Sanji had grown bored of following the sport after that, and focused more on what Zeff had to teach him in the kitchen.

But the unexpected bouts of violence were part of what made the sport interesting to watch when he did. Knowing how violent the sport was, coupled with the knowledge that Zoro was a rough person who _could_ fight and _did_ fight at the slightest of provocations had Sanji admittedly pretty excited to see him play.

Did he take the sport as seriously as his music career? Was it a just a placeholder he used to fill the time that his band used to take? Or was it a means for him to display his aggressive tendencies? After all, Zoro _had_ told him at the art show that he honestly just liked to fight for no real reason.

Hockey was one of the only sports that actually off-handedly encouraged that sort of behavior, anyway. Was Zoro smart enough to utilize it in that way?

All his thoughts on the matter only further reinforced how little Sanji actually knew about Zoro. He decided not to think about it too much, but he had a whole days' worth of time to kill before Nami said she'd come to pick them up. It was hard for him to think about much else.

He didn't know yet if Zoro knew whether or not he was coming and if that would even matter to the punk or not. Zoro had, in the past, reacted extremely negatively to having Sanji experience these sorts of personal aspects of his life with him.

Sanji didn't rightly know what to make of that, because, while it seemed that Zoro didn't like him tagging along, he still took the time to get him properly involved.

The art show was a good example, but the guitar he was currently harboring in his apartment was a better one.

It had taken him a few hours before he'd finally worked up enough nerve to take the bass Zoro had loaned him out of the case and hold it in his hands. He'd been warned against harming the finish on it, but really didn't see the need to worry about it; the guitar itself was old and came with a few nicks and scratches already embedded into its dark, cherry burst coloration.

'Shusui'- as Zoro had called it- turned out to be an acoustic bass, which explained why the gig bag it had been given to him in was so wide. The instrument was relatively large, especially when he compared it to what he knew about guitars. He was wary of its weight, but due to its hollow nature, it was incredibly light and easy to hold. Sanji sat down with it on the couch and tried to remember the scales Zoro had told him to practice, but unfortunately couldn't remember much about them except for which fret to start on.

He ended up simply dicking around with it; holding down different strings in different positions and plucking out simple notes just to hear the different sounds they made. Impressed with the range of tones each string alone could produce on an instrument designed for creating lower tones, he could almost ignore the anxiety waiting around for the hockey game to start was causing him.

It was hard not to dwell on it, but he did a relatively good job of keeping himself too preoccupied to think much on it.

And then, suddenly, it was time.

Nami called him around 5 o'clock to tell him that she was outside and waiting. Hurriedly he set Shusui back into its soft case and then scrounged around to find his long coat that he could wear inside the rink. What little he could remember from his short lived interest in the sport told him that it could get pretty chilly while one sat and watched the game play out.

It was very cold outside when he finally left his apartment; a drastic difference from how the weather had been just the day before. He locked up hurriedly, stifling a shiver as he buttoned up his coat and strode out to the parking lot.

She sat parked in the road behind a few of the legally parked cars with the engine idling. Sanji couldn't help but smile to himself as he noted just how beautiful she looked sitting in the cab, looking intently at her cellphone, probably trying to get in contact with Zoro.

Part of him wished he were in 'like' with her instead of Zoro, and he wondered what his life would be like currently if he'd met her first. Would he have fallen for her instead? It would certainly have been easier for him to pursue his romantic interests if he had. Though, it was doubtful he would have met her at all if it hadn't been for Zoro.

He did shiver then as he approached the truck, where she looked up and smiled at him in greeting when she saw him come near.

"Good afternoon, Mon Cherie," he cooed, blowing her a kiss as she manually rolled down her window to talk to him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Romeo." She rolled her eyes but smiled at his words regardless. "Save it for someone who gives a shit. But, hey, would you mind doing me a favor?"

"Of course not!" Sanji exclaimed, practically floating off his feet, eager to please her. "Anything you would ask of me!"

"Calm down! You don't have to pop a boner every time I talk to you," Nami said with a laugh. "Anyway, I need you to go up and get Zoro. I emailed him and told him I was on my way about an hour ago but he never replied. I think he's probably asleep. Just knock on his door till Chopper wakes him up."

"If you bid me to retrieve him, then retrieve him I shall!"

Despite her words, he kept up his antics and twirled with a flourish on his heel in order to make his way back into the stairwell of his building. There he ascended the stairs confidently and in a manner he assumed Nami would find flattering if she were watching him, but one look over the railing told him that she'd gone back to looking at her phone.

He stalled at the top of the stairs and noticed the familiar trail of mud that led straight to Zoro's apartment. As he approached, he paused and put his ear to the door to see if he could hear anything on the other side. Sanji heard nothing but silence, leading him to believe that Nami's assumption that the oaf had fallen asleep must have been correct.

A sharp, winter wind blew through the breezeway, coaxing him to shiver and burrow down into the fashionably thick confines of his coat. Despite the fact that it was almost Christmas, Sanji absolutely hated how cold December was becoming. There was absolutely no need for it, honestly; he never had liked snow much.

Hating the cold more than he felt he hated Zoro, Sanji followed Nami's instructions and knocked upon the door.

The sound that emitted from Chopper inside was sudden and thunderously loud. Sanji's eyes widened as he heard the dog run to the door, claws scrambling across the hardwood floor as he barked as loud as he possibly could in an effort to alert whoever it was that had knocked that he absolutely would not let him inside. If Zoro _were_ asleep, he certainly wouldn't be for very much longer.

Chopper's deep, booming barks didn't relent until Sanji finally heard Zoro scrambling to rein in his dog.

"Down, Chopper- _down!"_

As the door cracked open and Zoro peaked out through the opening, it was immediately apparent from both the smell and the sight of his bloodshot eyes that the punk had not, in fact, been sleeping as Nami had thought. Rather, he'd been getting high.

"Are you seriously fucking stoned right now?" Sanji couldn't help but ask, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Did you forget you were playing tonight?"

"I always- Chopper! Shut the fuck up!" Zoro yelled as Chopper continued to growl and bark. With a frustrated sigh, Zoro slid out of the opening and closed the door behind him, muffling the dog's rage. "I always get high before playing. It helps.

"Wait, how the fuck did you know I was playing tonight?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. "Quit meddling in my life!"

"I'm not _meddling,_ I'm-" Interfering. Being a nuisance. Trying to be your friend? "Participating."

"Partici…? The fuck does that mean?"

"Look, Nami is waiting for us," Sanji said, trying to escape this train wreck of a conversation. "Get your shit or whatever and hurry up. It's rude of you to keep her waiting."

Zoro looked like he had something else to say, but when he heard Chopper jumping up and presumably scratching at the door, he scowled and swallowed whatever it was he had to say in retort.

"Ten minutes," he bit out instead, and pushed the door open against the weight of his dog and slid back inside his apartment, careful not to accidentally release the beast.

Rolling his eyes, Sanji figured that Zoro's reaction to him tagging along was unwarranted. It was kind of annoying how against him Zoro seemed to be. But it didn't matter; Nami had been the one to invite him out tonight anyway.

He turned and made his way back down the stairs, a little bummed that Zoro apparently didn't want him to come along. When he got back to the bottom, he cast his doubts away and smiled reassuringly at Nami who was now watching him.

"He said he'd be about ten minutes," Sanji said as Nami leaned across his seat, pushed open the passenger side door, and gestured for him to get in.

It was so amazingly warm inside the truck that Sanji couldn't help but sigh contentedly as he began to settle into the seat. As he strapped the seatbelt around him, buckling it into place, he realized again just how tiny Nami's truck actually was.

Where the hell was Zoro supposed to sit? Was he going to drive himself?

Almost as though she'd read his mind, Nami supplied him with an answer.

"Zoro can ride in the bed," she said, gesturing to the back end of her truck with her thumb.

Turning in his seat, he looked over his shoulder and out the back window doubtfully. The size of the bed was relative to the rest of the trunk, in that it was rather small but looked like it could probably fit one or two people.

"Is that street legal?" he asked, unsure of the answer as he turned back around.

Nami shrugged.

"I mean, as long as he's not flailing around over the edge and acting like an idiot," she said. "It's honestly not much different from letting a dog ride back there anyway."

That was good enough for Sanji; he probably considered Zoro to be more of a mutt than a person at this point anyway.

"I've thought up another question," he said, and noticed the way she seemed to stiffen when he brought it up. That was fair, considering how intrusive his other questions had been. "Is it alright if I ask it while we wait?"

"Sure," she said, but sounded rather hesitant and reluctant. Setting her cellphone aside, she turned to face him.

"Alright." This had question had been a long time coming, he thought. He honestly had no idea why he hadn't asked it sooner. His expression became steely as he prepared to ask: "What the hell is up with that dog of Zoro's? What is Chopper's like, story? What is he _doing_ here?"

Nami stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

"Jesus," she said, trying to calm herself out of laughing long enough to answer. "You scared me! I had no idea what you were going to ask with your face looking like that!"

Sanji laughed along with her a little bit, a grin spreading its way across his face. When she'd finally calmed down, she hummed thoughtfully, casting her gaze up towards where Zoro's apartment was as she considered how best to answer his question.

"It's a long story; I'm not sure ten minutes is gonna be enough to cover it all," she admitted. "But I'll try.

"First of all, Chopper was not our dog originally. We got him when an older guy posted an ad in the paper, saying how he couldn't take care of him anymore in his old age and how he was probably gonna die soon and didn't want to see Chopper be put down when no one came to claim him because he was hard to handle.

"It was Luffy's idea, I think," she added, looking away from the building now to make eye contact with Sanji. "We were all living together at the time and he really, _really_ wanted a dog. So we showed up at this guy's door, and boy, he really did look like he was dying. Chopper wasn't as aggressive back then, and we all fell in love with him but were really surprised by his size!

"We thought he was a big type of shepherd or something at first, but the guy, Hiluluk, told us he was _actually_ a wolfdog."

"Wow, that does explain his size," Sanji said. "How the _hell_ is Zoro allowed to keep him here?"

"I bribe management." She cast him a wink and rubbed her fingers together. "They don't know what the money doesn't let them know about."

His appreciation for her rose drastically at the same time that his fear of her did. He made a mental note to never, ever cross her in the future if he could help it.

"But, anyway, back to the story- So yeah, this guy, Hiluluk, told us about how he first found Chopper, all banged up and shit from trying to assimilate with the native wolves or whatever and they'd rejected him, so he felt he had no choice really but to take him in.

"Hiluluk was afraid that if no one took Chopper in, then the state or whatever would put him down when he died. He was desperate to find someone that could take care of him, and felt that between the three of us we could probably handle him. So he let us have him, and when Luffy left, Zoro and I decided he should probably be the one to handle him since he's just _so damn big_."

"That makes sense," Sanji agreed. "That is to say, I don't think you _aren't_ a strong, capable woman! Chopper is just…"

"In a league of his own, I know," she said, smiling. "He actually listens to me the best, but he can be hard to take care of. I provide him his food, and Zoro provides the housing."

That explained why Nami had been bringing over meat when Sanji had first met her. Given that Chopper had been a semi-wild wolfdog, the raw meat diet made sense.

"I think that actually covers everything," Nami said, looking proud that she'd been able to explain his backstory to him before Zoro had come down. "Chopper's a good dog. He's anxiety-aggressive, but he'd never actually hurt anyone. All bark and no bite."

"I believe it now," he said, and meant it. Chopper had had a hard life; he was just glad that he'd fallen in with people that loved him and were able to take care of him properly.

Their conversation was interrupted by Zoro throwing his duffel bag into the back end of the truck. They both turned to watch as he lifted himself and rolled into the bed, causing the truck to lean and then find its balance again.

He looked surly and agitated, wearing a frown that was as noticeable as the Navy coat he was bundled up in. The military green clashed with the brighter shade of his hair.

Nami rolled her window down and stuck her head out, looking back at Zoro awkwardly as he opened the toolbox. To Sanji's bemusement, he pulled out a warm looking blanket and wound it around himself before he sat down; he must've rode around in the bed a lot.

"Ready to go?" Nami asked, to which Zoro gave the thumbs up.

Nodding in affirmation, Nami rolled up her window, put the truck in drive, and drove them out of the parking lot and towards the highway.

They didn't talk much on the ride over. At one point Nami brushed him up on the rules of the game at Sanji's request when he told her he didn't remember much about it. She told him to mostly focus on the audiences' reactions to know whether something good was happening or not. Beyond that, they mostly sat in companionable silence, listening to whatever the radio decided to play for them.

Occasionally Sanji would find himself glancing backwards to check on Zoro, who sat remarkably still bundled up in the blanket. He caught Nami's eye once as he'd turned back around. She'd smiled at him with knowing, but he'd been too embarrassed to smile back and settled for staring out the window as they rode instead.

It took them roughly an hour to get from the apartment complex to the ice rink where Zoro was to play. Sanji noticed as they pulled in that it wasn't the same one that he'd brought Zoro to earlier in the week for his practice, as this one was much larger. Definitely not the size of an arena, but not small enough to be a public ice house, this one sat somewhere comfortably between the two.

"The game doesn't start until seven," Nami said as she pulled into a spot and parked. Glancing at the dashboard clock, Sanji noticed that it was only six. "Zoro has to get here early to get into gear and warmup and stuff."

"Makes sense."

The weight of the truck shifted, causing the vehicle to tilt as Zoro stood up and swung over the edge of the bed. He packed the blanket back into the tool chest as he grabbed his duffel bag and approached the driver's side window.

Nami rolled it down so he could lean in through the opening. He eyed the both of them with a steady squint before saying, "Don't embarrass me tonight."

"Never do," Nami said with a cute wink, to which Zoro scowled.

"I'm _serious_."

"So am I."

Sighing out of frustration, Zoro relented and pulled away from the truck. He made the gesture with his fingers from his eyes to her, signaling that he'd be keeping an eye on her. Zoro then made his way into the mini arena, leaving Sanji to ask her what that had been about.

"I like to cheer," she said with a smile that could only be described as menacing. "Like, _really_ cheer; I get way into it."

They left it at that as she cut the engine and they got out. Though they were an hour early, the parking lot already had a fair amount of cars in it. There was even a large bus that had probably transported the enemy team parked right up on the curb beside the ice rink.

Seeing it parked there as they passed it by prompted Sanji to ask, "What league does he play in?"

"Oh, he's not pro or anything," Nami said casually. "Well, no, I guess he _kind_ of is. It's not the NHL or anything; I think they call it a class 'A' minor league? He's paid to be on the team, at any rate."

"That's kind of cool."

Nami flashed him another smile in agreement as they stepped up onto the curb and made their way into the small arena. She led them to the ticket vendor, who smiled ta Nami and handed her an envelope.

Sanji wasn't surprised by the fact that Nami apparently held season tickets; he'd half-expected that to be the case with how close she and Zoro were.

"You can pay me back for this later," she'd said to him, opening the envelope her tickets came in and passing one to him. "My sister and I split the cost for these, so you owe us."

That being agreeable to him, he'd simply nodded and together they'd been admitted inside. It was a little chilly because of the rink and the close proximity to it that her seats had. He was glad he'd worn his long, winter coat.

They were a few rows back and up from the Plexiglas barrier that stood between the spectators and the players. On the home team's side, they were relatively close to the bench that the Bighorn Bison would occupy once the game started.

Small chit-chat was made between them as more fans arrived and began to fill most of the empty seats that were left available. It struck him then that this was the real deal. This was an _actual_ sporting event that people paid to attend. These weren't just friends and family of the players come to encourage a hobby, but actual _fans_ of the sport who wanted to cheer their team on to victory.

There was even a drop down, over-ice, center scoreboard. For such a small arena, the setup was pretty nice.

A lot of the seats for the audience were now beginning to fill out, and some people that were coming in were actually wearing copies of the home team's jerseys. He noticed with some degree of fascination that there were a few people wearing a jersey that had Zoro's name and number on the back.

'RORONOA 68'.

"Why 68?" he asked Nami, watching as a cute girl with pink hair take a seat a few rows ahead of them. She had one of Zoro's jerseys on and looked excited to be there.

"69 was taken," she replied with a sly wink.

Sanji was about to comment about how typical that was of him when the players finally took the ice.

The audience rose into a loud cheer as the announcer came over the intercom and introduced the two teams who were lazily skating around the ice in full uniform.

Nami was on her feet and clapping enthusiastically along with a few other people around her, cheering for the home team and booing the away team, the Whiskey Peak Cacti. Sanji tried to pick out who Zoro was among all the players that had been identified as the Bighorn Bison. They were decked out in jerseys that were primarily white with pine green and brown accents. There was a large, identifying image of a bison's head placed smack in the middle of the front of their jerseys.

From his seat, Sanji could hear the slight swoosh and clacking noise that the hockey skates made against the ice as the players skated along. He finally picked out Zoro when he skated by along the far edge of the rink, turning and gliding easily with a few of his teammates as they headed for the bench.

The rest of the players left on the ice began to form up as the referees joined them on the ice and they readied themselves for the game's opening face-off.

As far as Sanji could tell, Zoro's team won that and the game began.

Beside him, Nami was truly in the mood, screaming and leading a few cheers as her team took an early lead. Sanji could safely say that he wasn't nearly invested in the game as she was, and could see why Zoro had told her specifically not to embarrass him with her team spirit.

Every once in a while as the first period went along, when Zoro was on the bench, he would turn around to look at her with the most annoyed expression he'd ever seen plastered on his face.

If Sanji were in his position, though, knowing a woman as beautiful as Nami was cheering for him so hard- he would have been thrilled to pieces. He could envision himself playing better than he'd probably ever played if he had cute women screaming at him to "Beat his ass!" whenever he body checked an opposing player.

The first period flew by with not a whole lot of action despite Nami's enthusiasm. Zoro incurred a minor penalty once for cross-checking someone, and Sanji had to admit that it was rather funny to see him sitting in the penalty box, glaring deadly daggers at Nami who was shouting something rude about the refs.

Bighorn had scored one goal against Whiskey Peak in the first 20 minute period before the timer hit zero and the teams retreated back into the locker room for the first intermission.

Nami was beyond breathless at that point, and had to excuse herself from Sanji's company to get herself something to drink to soothe her throat. She'd asked if he'd wanted anything while she was up, and he had declined.

Left alone, Sanji let his gaze wander around to view all the different types of people that had gathered together for the event. There were a lot of families, some couples, a _bunch_ of kids, and-

Was that-

Seated in a section that was curved behind one of the goals was a woman he recognized fairly well. It was hard to forget that particular shade of blue her eyes had that could keep you locked in a stare even as she flayed your mind with her gaze.

Sanji shivered when he felt a chill overcome him; a chill unrelated to being close to the ice rink.

Robin was here.

But she was alone.

No one around her looked like anyone Sanji could remember seeing from the art show, but that didn't change the fact that he'd become supremely uneasy after noticing her presence. Why was she here? Did she come on her own or on Crocodile's behalf?

To what end was she sitting there, gazing morosely at the ice rink while the players took their reprieve?

There was no way of knowing.

Despite what he knew about her, Sanji couldn't help but acknowledge how serenely gorgeous she was, with her long, black hair framing her perfectly angular face. Who was he to judge her character? Maybe she just enjoyed hockey and had come to see the game. There was no real reason for him to suspect that she was there under some dubious circumstances. After all, she'd helped them out before; what reason would she have to hurt them now?

He wasn't sure if it was worth telling Nami that Robin was there. She was having fun, and he didn't want to spoil her mood. There wasn't a whole lot Robin could do sitting in the audience, at any rate, unless she planned to distract Zoro somehow into throwing the game.

Sanji highly doubted that was the case, though. Still… what could she possibly be here for?

When Nami returned, large beer in hand, he kept quiet about seeing Robin.


	21. Foreign Object

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'March through the red mist, never get my vision clear  
> Learn to love this kind of atmosphere  
> Strike funny poses, keep my weapon hand low  
> Whip my head around a little, get blood on the front row
> 
> Gonna jab you in the eye with a foreign object  
> I personally will stab you in the eye with a foreign object'

 

Later, Sanji couldn't say whether or not he'd made the right decision regarding not telling Nami about Robin. At the time, he'd felt that as long as he kept an eye on her nothing would happen. There wasn't anything she could do if he saw a chance to intervene; if he saw it coming, he could stop it, he was sure.

He'd been wrong. Things happened outside of his control that didn't allow him time to do anything but watch as terrible things transpired, and he had no way of knowing if informing Nami before they happened would have changed the outcome at all.

Could it have all been avoided? Or would it have just caused something worse to happen instead?

Not knowing if he'd made the right choice left him with a guilt that he would carry for a very long time.

Before any of that happened, though, he'd merely tried to enjoy the game.

Down on the ice, things were looking rough. The second period started hectically, with the Whiskey Peak Cacti coming back from the intermission with an offense that was so overwhelming, Zoro's team was taken off guard. The sudden switch in momentum had allowed the Cacti to slip a goal into their net almost as soon as the game had resumed.

They'd won the face off and immediately gone to swarm the goalie to the point where he couldn't figure out where the puck had gotten to until it scored. The Bison seemed shocked, but didn't allow themselves to linger on how they'd let that happen. They rebounded ferociously, and with the game tied now, both teams played with matched aggression- the Bison weren't going to be taken off guard again. Bodies slammed into the Plexiglas barrier at an almost consistent rate as the players tried to bully their way to a victory.

It was an exciting, rousing game that was incredibly intense. The announcer was speaking as fast as he could to try and keep up with the action so he could accurately broadcast it.

Sanji did his best in balancing his time between keeping an eye on Robin and watching Zoro play. He found that he was, still, inexplicably nervous about her being there. She didn't seem to be doing much of anything from what he could see, but just knowing she was there made him uneasy. It looked like she didn't even want to be there, which kept him wondering _why_ she was there at all when it became obvious she wasn't a fan of the sport.

People around her were going as crazy as Nami was. The fact that she wasn't vocalizing at all or standing up to shout or doing _anything_ made her stand out simply because she wasn't participating. An air of foreboding surrounded her as she sat there; a dark, stationary figure of boredom that managed to disguise the omen of misfortune she brought with her.

It was difficult for him to focus on anything else. Her solemn beauty was as threatening to him as it was alluring, but he managed to turn his attention to the ice whenever Nami or the rest of the audience cheered about something. Despite how involved he became in supporting the team, he couldn't shake how apprehensive he was feeling with Robin so close. It curdled in his gut, trying to upset it as he attempted to figure out what, if anything, was meant to happen by Robin being there.

"Are you alright?" Nami had asked him once, catching him off guard as he was staring away at Robin's section. "Want a drink or anything?"

She'd already begun losing her voice at that point, and spoke in a raspy voice that she tried to clear with a cough. He'd assured her he was fine, and yelled alongside her when Zoro violently body-checked one of the Cacti into the wall, earning him a penalty.

His nerves had never been so bad; not since he'd been a child, at least. He'd had a problem with anxiety growing up, and now it seemed that it was coming back in full force. It just existed within him for no discernable reason. Something was wrong, and not knowing what it was was impacting him negatively.

As he watched the game, he found his heartrate would pick up whenever Zoro was called in to play. He didn't know if it was in correlation to his anxiety or if he just got a thrill out of watching him brutalize his opponents; either way, it had been making him uncomfortable.

With Zoro off the ice, even if only for a few minutes, Sanji tried to relax. There was no goddamn reason he should be feeling this way, he thought. He needed to drag himself out of it before he gave Nami reason to worry too, even if she looked to be in too high of a spirit to be impacted by whatever was bothering him. The beer and the adrenaline had rendered her immune to his discomfort.

Sanji was grateful for that, as it gave him space to think.

' _Try to think of it logically_ ,' he thought to himself. ' _What on earth can one woman do from the_ stands _, for fucks sake?'_

He chanced a glance back at Robin to make sure she was, in fact, still in her seat, and found that her gaze was fixed on Zoro sitting in the penalty box. The way she was looking at him made his stomach twist, and he almost groaned aloud from it.

Sanji didn't have clear vision of her from his seat. There were enthusiastic fans blocking his direct line of sight that made him almost want to scream at them to " _Sit the fuck down!",_ but even still he could recognize her expression from a distance.

Zeff had pulled a similar look on him when he'd found him as a kid. It was something he'd never been able to forget, because it was a true expression of looking at something and knowing it'd been severely mistreated and knowing there was nothing you could do to help it.

It was pure agony in its simplest form.

The look on Robin's face was direct and concentrated, but didn't hold interest, malicious or otherwise. She didn't even look bored anymore. No, instead she looked sorrowful, gazing down at Zoro in the box with a look of utter pity that was so strong he swore he could feel her emotions deep in his heart.

What the hell did _that_ mean?

He followed her gaze down to Zoro, who looked annoyed and frustrated with where he was sitting. On the ice, one of the players' stick broke and lay in pieces along the outer rim of the wall. Sanji attempted to make eye contact with him to try and direct his attention to where Robin sat in an effort to at least warn him, but Zoro was focused intently on what his team was doing without him.

Though, what exactly was it that he was trying to warn him of?

_What could she do?_

Taking a deep, calming breath that did little to quell his nerves, Sanji forced himself to remember that Robin was _a good person_. After all, she'd helped them out of a tight spot in the past. Why would she have helped them then only to harm them now? If he were analyzing Zoro's account of what happened that night correctly, then wouldn't it make more sense for her to be on their side? She'd acted like a double agent that night, which made her a secret ally of theirs, kind of.

He frowned suddenly. His mind began working overtime to process that thought- the realization that she was on _their side-,_ when he was roused abruptly from his thoughts by a loud and disappointed groan.

With the numbers advantage in the Cacti's favor, they'd scored again.

Nami hollered obscenities as the Whiskey Peak players rallied around the man that had scored in a hug of comradery, encouraging one another as Zoro's team skated around them dejectedly. With all his focusing on Robin, Sanji hadn't seen how they'd scored, but listening to Nami made it seem like it'd been dirty.

The goalie on the home team was beginning to look overly agitated as a result. He was gesturing around wildly while shouting things that Sanji couldn't hear over the chatter of the audience. One of his teammates tried to calm him down, but the goalie had already begun leaving his goal to confront the player that had scored against him. Nami's eyes lit up as she stood up and started to chant:

" _Fight! Fight! Fight!"_

The referees seemed content to let it happen. They skated off to the side to watch as the Cacti players disbanded around the man who scored, leaving him and the goalie to get up into each other's faces. They began to shove one another roughly as the whole crowd took up Nami's chant:

" _Fight! Fight! Fight!"_

The chant echoed around the auditorium, swarming his senses as it rose in volume.

He knew it was meant to bolster the team and encourage the inevitable, but to Sanji it just sounded like a threat. A loud, all-consuming, booming, ominous threat.

The voices rose together in a fever pitch, sounding hollow and frightening as they chorused together. Sanji's earlier thought suddenly resolved itself as Zoro's penalty timer let up and he began to leave the box. It was with dawning horror that he realized that Robin wasn't there to do _anything_. Given their history, short as it was, didn't it stand to reason that she was there to _protect_ them again? As a double agent, could it be that she was there to _prevent_ something from happening? Something that had been organized in advance and was now building, biding its time as it got closer and closer to happening.

_But what was it?_

It was maddening to know that there was something going on that he couldn't quite figure out. It was as above his head as the arena rafters were that harbored all those maliciously chanting voices. Frantically Sanji stood up with the rest of his section, trying to catch what was unfolding on the ice. He noticed that Robin, too, was desperately trying to keep an eye on the action below, straining her neck with her clear, cold blue eyes as wide as they'd open.

It was halfway through the second period when the fight broke out in full force.

The goalie tore his own helmet off and fists began swinging as the two men began to duke it out, sliding across the ice as the brunt of their blows bore them momentum across the slick surface.

Zoro had been on his way back to the bench when he realized his goalie was fighting. Some of his teammates jumped over the bench divider and were already skating over to help, passing him by as he casually made his return. He looked to his coach, who was yelling at the refs to _do something, goddammit_ when he caught Zoro's eye and gestured for him to intervene.

He began skating back towards them almost lazily, certain the fight would be disrupted before he got a chance to really do anything. Sure, he was an enforcer and it was technically his _job_ to fight, but most of his team were already over there. Mihawk was still angrily yelling at the referees, but it seemed that they'd developed selective hearing as they refused to break up the fight.

Tuning out the chant that had erupted in the stands, he wondered what the motivation behind the refs letting them fight was. Their league might have been a minor one, but it still had rules and regulations against fighting. He couldn't help but notice that this was out of the ordinary as, in the past, players had been ejected from the game for trying to start riots like this, and yet the refs were turning a blind eye to this one.

A bunch of the Bison had swarmed up with the goalie, rallying behind him as they ganged up on the lone Cacti player trying to hold his own against them all. That was odd, Zoro would later remember thinking. Where were the rest of the Cacti? Why weren't the refs _doing_ anything about this obviously one-sided fight?

What the hell was going- _WHAM!_

Having been distracted by his own thoughts and focus on getting to the fight, he hadn't realized that a group of the Cacti had been rushing towards him. He was violently checked against the wall, where his helmet cracked sharply against the wood paneling before he fell to the ice, scrambling to get back up.

They outnumbered him 5 to 1, but the rest of his team was focused on fighting with the goalie. None of them saw him go down as the Cacti prevented him from getting up, piling onto him as he struggled against them.

One of the Cacti players pried the helmet off his head while Zoro struggled and shouted in an effort to be seen or heard. Where the _fuck_ were the refs?! This wasn't fucking legal play. They threw his helmet off to the side and then punched him across the face, smacking his head against the ice and drawing blood from his nose.

He hissed in pain and tried to make more noise, but the audience's chant was louder than he was. They were so engrossed in the fighting that his scuffle with the other Cacti players went largely unnoticed, tucked up beside the wall opposite of the main attraction.

Still he struggled, wriggling as best he could against the ice and the weight of the hockey players holding him down against it. The cold of it pressed against his face as someone shoved him roughly into it again, reinforcing the fact that they'd broken his nose as the pain of it overtook him.

"Hurry, do it quick!" One of the players said, sounding frantic as they wrestled Zoro into place.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he found himself shouting in retort, trying to turn his body onto its side to redirect some of the weight off. "Get the fuck off me!"

Managing to wriggle himself out of the heap just a bit, he looked up in time to see another one of the Cacti players skating rapidly towards them. The others were punching him, hurting him, hindering him _just enough_ to prevent him from rising to his feet but in a way that avoided having much attention be drawn to them with jerky, restrained movements. From the stands he thought he could hear someone shouting his name right as the other Cacti teammate tripped over the broken hockey stick that had been left on the ice and came sliding at him feet first.

Sanji had been the one to shout; he'd seen what had happened as it happened, even though it appeared as if no one else had. Once he said Zoro's name, though, Nami was snapped out of the crowd mentality she'd been swallowed up in. She stopped screaming and followed his gaze to where Zoro lied under a heap of yellow-green jerseys just in time to catch the impact of what happened.

She gasped and screamed, putting her hands to her face in horror as the blade of the skate connected with Zoro's prone face.

The effect was immediate. Blood was on the ice in no time, flooding Sanji's mind with memories of the video Zeff had shown him of the poor athlete whose jugular had been slit during a game. His heart nearly seemed to seize in his chest as he heard the anguished howl of pain and knew he could do nothing to help him.

One quick look around at Robin told him that this was what she'd been hoping to protect them against as her mouth fell open and that sorrowful look was replaced with one of defeat.

The player that had slid his skate into Zoro's face almost seemed to be kicking at him repeatedly as the throng under which he was buried tried to mask their actions. The fighting chant was still going strong before it finally climaxed into one heroic cheer that burst forth when it appeared that the Bison had won the initial fight. The referees finally intervened, blowing their whistles and skating forward to distribute penalties. The Cacti players scattered back to their bench as Zoro's teammates congratulated each other on a well-fought brawl, current score be damned.

Then it appeared as if everyone noticed at once that there was a player downed on the ice. He was on his hands and knees, with one hand pressed up against his face, and oh, lord, there was so much blood.

Zoro's glove was stained crimson as he tried to stunt the flow by applying as much pressure to the side of his face as he could muster. It was impossible to tell from Sanji's standpoint just how severe the injury was, but the way his blood was draining out in thick rivulets down his arm, pooling onto the ice below told him it was bad. Real bad.

" _And it looks like number 68, Roronoa Zoro, is downed on the ice following an intense altercation between teams-"_ the announcer said, unable to keep the shock out of his voice as he shakily narrated what was happening. " _There's blood on the ice here, folks, and a lot of it."_

When Sanji was finally able to look away, he saw that Nami's face was incredibly pale, and it looked as though she might pass out at any moment. Sanji feared for her, but feared for Zoro more. He wasn't moving; didn't make any effort to right himself, and the pool of blood that had begun to spread out among the ice only grew larger.

"Someone do something!" Nami shrieked. "Don't just leave him out there!"

A general sense of panic then consumed the crowd. People reacted differently; Sanji could hear people gasping, screaming, and even heard someone puke as Zoro's coach rushed out unsteadily to where his player lie wounded. He crouched down beside him, placing his arm across Zoro's back as he tried to ascertain the extent of which he'd been wounded.

The shocked way he recoiled when he managed to get a glimpse told everyone all they needed to know.

"Oh my God," Nami said, and then kept repeating, "oh my God, oh my GodohmyGod-"

Sanji felt stupid standing there watching, unable to do anything. A numbness started in his toes and then crept up throughout his body as he watched the Bison's coach wave for help. A few of Zoro's teammates hurriedly skated out, and together they awkwardly got him to his feet so they could quickly skate him off the rink. Zoro remained hunched awkwardly, clutching at his face with his thick, stained glove as they bumped off the ice and rushed him away and out of view.

No one seemed to know what to do then. Even the announcer had gone quiet. Sanji's eyes were trained on the blood stains that had been left behind, and noticed with some degree of disgust that there was a red trail that had been etched into the ice from the skate that had sliced Zoro's face. The player who had carved him up was nowhere to be found, having vanished after the fights had been disbanded.

Nami was hyperventilating beside him, Sanji realized. He stifled his panic long enough to help her, turning her towards him with his hands upon her shoulders.

"Take deep, slow breaths Nami, he'll be okay- please, you need to calm down."

He didn't know if what he was saying was true, but from what he could tell Zoro's injuries hadn't _looked_ life threatening. There was a lot of blood, sure, but in the end they hadn't had to drag him away on a stretcher. Obviously he needed medical attention, but he'd been able to get off the ice without too much help.

Nami's eyes were glassy and the frenzied expression she wore seemed cemented on her face. He was afraid she would need medical attention too when she snapped out of the panic she'd almost been consumed by. Roughly pulling herself out of his grip, Nami shoved past him and began to hurriedly make her way out of the seating area.

Momentarily startled by her reaction, Sanji spared a quick glance to where Robin sat and saw that she was sitting down now with her hand over her mouth. Like Nami, she seemed to be in a state of shock. She sat motionless as the people around her moved around one another; a still figure in a throng of movement. He had questions he needed to ask her in regards to, well, _everything,_ and now would have been the perfect time to catch her alone. Instead, he found himself taking off after Nami, chasing her as she made her way out of their row and back into the commercial part of the arena.

He had no idea where she was running to and had no intention of stopping her unless it seemed as though she were about to hurt herself. They swerved and brushed past plenty of other bodies as she led them along, and many of the other people Sanji saw looked understandably stupefied about what had happened.

A lot of people had left the stands, unable to stand looking at the blood Zoro had left behind. Following Nami was made all the harder because of it; no one seemed to understand the urgency they were in as they dumbly stood in their way, talking amongst themselves. Despite her frayed emotions, Nami still managed to smoothly maneuver through the horde. She ducked, skirted, and shoved past a lot of people that Sanji found himself mumbling apologies to as he followed her route. It was rough going for a while until she led them into an unpopulated area which Sanji realized must have led to the locker rooms. He caught up with her when she stopped to breath, taking in huge, deep gulps of air, hunched forward with her hands on her knees.

"Are you alright?" he managed to ask in-between taking in large breaths of his own.

She shook her head first, but then nodded as she righted herself. Her eyes were wet with tears as she looked up at him, and Sanji swore he could feel his heart breaking, her grief was so strong. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms at that moment to ease her pain, but instead they kept going, rushing onwards to where they knew Zoro was being held.

They made it to the locker rooms out of breath and looking quite haggard. Each of them had taken off their warm coats and felt burdened by having to carry them in their arms when they arrived. They attempted to regain some composure when they noticed that a large, squeamish looking man was standing outside the entrance. From inside, they could hear voices speaking urgently around a lot of commotion and they could both hear Zoro's wail of pain.

Nami immediately tried to enter the room, but to their dismay the large man barred her way.

"You're not supposed to be back here," he said, looking first at Nami and then to Sanji with confusion. "No one's allowed in unless you're part of the team or management."

Instead of arguing with him, Nami tried to dash past him again. She was thwarted immediately as he lunged into her way, making her groan out of frustration and desperation.

" _Please!_ I have to get in there!" Her eyes were brimming with fresh tears that leaked out across her flushed cheeks. She turned them up to the anonymous man, who hesitated, unsure of what he was meant to do in this situation. "I need to see him, I-"

"C'mon, man, let her in," Sanji intervened, sensing the guard's weakness. "She's his girl; can't you see she's worried about him?!"

The man had seemed uncertain, but he took a secondary glance at how upset Nami was and relented, stepping aside.

"If anyone asks, you snuck in," he said as she quickly ran by.

"I'll text you or- or call you!" she called back to Sanji, disappearing without thanks and before he even had a chance to reply.

A sick fantasy briefly crossed his mind where he wished she would care for him as deeply as she evidently felt for Zoro. He wanted her to weep for him as he was grievously wounded, but he banished it instantly, shaking it from his head when he remembered he had somewhere else to be.

"Thanks, man," he mumbled to the guy by the door before he turned away and hastily made his way back to the main area.

He didn't know where Robin would be if she were still hanging around. Gut instinct told him that she probably wasn't still in her seat, and he slowed his stride to think about where she would likely be.

His first thought was that she'd probably made it into the locker room before them somehow. There was no way she could have beaten them there, though; they'd ran the whole way and she'd still been in her seat when they'd left.

There were less people now lingering in the common area than there had been when they'd run through it earlier. It was easier to navigate between people as he walked aimlessly, trying to make progress toward an unknown destination.

As he passed by the exit that lead out into the parking lot, he saw her. She was rushing out into the night, her dark hair illuminated by the streetlights that lined the sidewalk. Immediately he bolted after her, pushing himself roughly through the exit doors.

He was immediately assaulted by the cold; if he'd thought it was cold earlier when he was still at his apartment, it was nothing compared to this. The temperature had dropped even further and the air outside smelled like it was about to snow. He hurriedly put his coat back on, struggling to chase after Robin as he jammed his arms into the sleeves.

"Hey! Wait up!" he called as he closed the gap a bit. She glanced quickly over her shoulder at him before hurrying onward, ignoring him outright.

Frustrated, but with his coat on proper, he did finally catch up to her just as she reached her car. He heard it automatically unlock as she let herself inside, wasting no time in starting the car in an attempt to leave without sharing words.

"Please, wait! I just want to talk!"

Out of impulse, spurred on by a moment of adrenaline, he pulled open the passenger door to her car and attempted to get in. There was a sensation of instant regret that flooded him as he froze, staring into the barrel of her pistol as she whipped it out of her bag and pointed it directly at him.

There was a tense moment where Sanji honestly thought she was going to shoot him. Her eyes were sharp and cruel, and did not waver as he slowly retreated. In the back of his mind, his earlier thought of ' _Robin is a good person_ ' echoed around on repeat in an attempt to convince himself that he was safe.

"I just want to talk," he said, speaking calmly despite the situation. "That's all."

She made no motion to turn her gun away. They remained still, staring one another dead in the eye for a time before Robin finally relented, sighing and lowering her arm. Sanji shivered from what he told himself was the cold as she allowed him to sit in the car with her.

As he softly closed the door behind him, he sat there staring out of the windshield and realized that he'd never felt his heart beat as fast as it was currently. He couldn't quite collect his thoughts as a result; everything he'd wanted to ask and say danced around just outside of his cognitive ability to process them. All he could think about was how he'd almost (probably) died. The sound of his heart pumping blood rapidly throughout his body made it hard to concentrate on anything.

Robin's voice, when she finally did speak, was quiet, low, and somber. It calmed his thoughts and racing heart, giving him something to focus on as it really was quite soothing.

"I'm sorry, but your friend is likely going to lose his eye."

Blinking out of his stupor, Sanji replied, saying, "His eye? How do you know that?"

The gun was still in Robin's hand, and she looked down at it as she placed it in her lap. He wanted to press her for an answer, but he felt his phone buzz in his coat pocket and took it out to see that he'd received several texts from Nami.

 

 

He set his phone aside without replying and turned to look at Robin.

"How did you know it was his eye?"

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes for a moment, preparing herself for what she had to say.

"The Whiskey Peak Cacti are owned by Crocodile," she began, and Sanji felt his heart drop. It all made sense now. Even if she stopped talking there, he'd have been able to fill in the blanks himself. "He paid them off to hurt your friend. I tried to stop it; I offered to pay double what he had, but he'd threatened their families. That was all I could do."

"All you could do?" he asked, suddenly angrily. "You knew this whole time that they were going to try to hurt him, and you didn't tell him?! You didn't _warn_ him?! You just sat there and let it happen!"

He didn't know where his rage came from when just a moment ago he'd been so fearful he could hardly speak. There was plenty more she could've done in his mind. If she couldn't keep the team from doing what Crocodile was forcing them to, then she could've gone to Zoro directly and told him not to play. She could've told the authorities, or anyone; she could've done so much more!

"You think he would have believed me?" Robin snapped back, turning her sharp eyes on him in a cutting gaze that stopped his furious tirade in its tracks. "Crocodile has influence over more things than you could possibly know. I don't care if you don't believe me, but _I did all I could do_ and don't you _dare_ try telling me otherwise.

"And do you honestly think Crocodile would have been satisfied with that? With knowing he'd been cheated out of his revenge? You have _no idea_ what he's capable of, and he's capable of doing so much more when he feels he's been cheated."

The car had begun to warm up as they stared disapprovingly at one another. The ambulance that Nami mentioned in text finally pulled into the parking lot, lights blaring and siren screaming in a high pitched warble. Sanji sighed and broke eye contact with her, because when it came down to it, she was right. There was no way Zoro would have believed her or heeded her warning. If she'd approached him and told him not to play, he probably would have thought that that was her way of trying to intimidate him into not playing at all. He was way too stubborn for his own good.

And when it came right down to it, Sanji realized he did know nothing at all. He knew nothing about Zoro, or Robin, or _anything_ about anyone he'd become mixed up with over the past week except for Nami. He was an outsider who didn't know his place.

His phone buzzed again, and he saw that it was another text from Nami.

After he replied to her message he tucked his phone away back into his pocket.

"I'm sorry," he said to Robin, heaving a deep sigh of his own. "You're right; I have no idea what I'm talking about."

When he looked back at her, her face had softened. She nodded, accepting his apology.

"I didn't want this to happen, but he thought that it was the bodyguard who 'blinded' him by editing you out of the security footage he'd captured somehow," she admitted morosely. "I couldn't tell him I had done it; I have too much on the line to lose at the moment. 'An eye for an eye', he said."

"All this," Sanji said, speaking quietly and looking over towards where the ambulance had parked. "All this because of me?"

He felt sick. Everything that had happened that night was finally catching up with him. His feelings ranged from sadness to anger to guilt before finally settling on remorse when Robin said, definitively, "Yes. All this because of you."

He felt like he wanted to cry, but didn't. It was all coming back around to him. All his _meddling_ around in Zoro's life had finally taken its toll. His actions had consequences, and they were severe.

"But I'm going to make things right."

Looking up and around to Robin, who sat staring with a glare out the windshield dead ahead of them, he saw that her face no longer looked as soft as it had. It was long and drawn now, burdened with the weight of responsibility. She'd spoken with such conviction in her voice that he didn't doubt for a second her ability to accomplish anything that she set out to do.

"I'm going to make things right," she repeated, and met his gaze. Her frighteningly blue eyes were clear, and bore deeply into his own. "This will not stand. It will take time, but _I will make things right._ "

"I believe you," Sanji whispered, unable to speak any louder than that.

Robin nodded in understanding and looked away again, placing her hands on the wheel. Across the lot, back at the arena, the ambulance's sirens came back on as it prepared to leave, having loaded Zoro inside. He felt a little better with knowing that he was finally being given medical care, but Sanji's emotions still refused to stabilize.

It was all too much, far too soon.

"Do you need a ride home?" Robin kindly asked him then, and he found himself shaking his head no in response. "Then I hope that the rest of your night will be a good one."

' _How can it be? Knowing what I do now?'_ he thought but did not say as he opened the car door and got out of its warmth. He felt numb and immune to the cold as he shut it behind him and stepped away so Robin could leave.

Standing alone in the lot, he watched as she left and then made his way back inside the arena when he realized he had nowhere else to go. Nami had been his ride, and now she was with Zoro. It came as a surprise to him to see that the hockey game had resumed, with Zoro's team playing on without him. Though, he supposed, as long as they could clean the blood off the ice there was no reason _not_ to finish the game.

He couldn't bring himself to return to his seat, and instead spent the rest of the game loitering around the outer ring of the small arena, buying and drinking cheap beer to dull his aching brain until Nami contacted him again.

It was a phone call this time, he saw, as he took out his buzzing phone from his pocket. He answered it, knowing his voice sounded listless and wished he could offer her something that sounded more sincere than that.

"How is he?"

Over the line, he could hear her sniffling and imagined how she must've looked in that moment and couldn't. His mind simply wouldn't cooperate with him.

" _He's in surgery,"_ she said, hiccupping around a sob. " _Th-they're probably going to have to remove his eye- they said it was beyond saving, and oh, Sanji! It was so bad!"_

She began crying in earnest, and he wished he could be there to comfort her in person. Over the phone he couldn't do much of anything except let her cry.

" _I'm sorry, I- I'm going to take a cab back to the arena,"_ she managed to say once she'd regained some composure. " _I'll be back soon."_

"Take your sweet time, my darling," he replied.

And then he was stuck waiting. He could hear the game continuing on even though he wasn't watching it in person until it finally ended about 45 minutes later. The announcer had lost some of his momentum, and the fans that came out of the seating area looked dejected and ugly as Sanji heard that the Bison had lost the game.

That didn't surprise him, given all that had happened that night. It wasn't their fault; the game had been doomed from the start. As he sat nursing his third beer, part of him wished he'd been smart enough to tell Nami about Robin earlier. He knew Zoro wouldn't have listened to Robin, but maybe he wasn't so bull-headed that he would have listened to them if they'd told him it was a bad idea for him to take the ice with his team.

Then again, Robin was probably right; if Crocodile's revenge attempt had been foiled, would he not have just retaliated harder? Bitterly, Sanji thought that Zoro had probably gotten lucky with just losing an eye. There were a lot of other, less expendable body parts Crocodile could have targeted.

Nami texted him to tell her she'd arrived. He downed the rest of his drink in a swift, greedy gulp and stepped outside, walking to where she'd parked her truck earlier that night. She was already inside it, sitting behind the wheel as the engine rattled on and struggled to warm the cab. He opened the door and came in to sit beside her and immediately pulled her into a strong hug as she fell into him. They sat there for a few minutes while she wept again in his arms. Her hair was wet and mussed and Sanji bet she probably had one hell of a headache.

"He'll be okay," he whispered, holding her tight until she pulled away and nodded, wiping her eyes dry.

"I know," was all she said.

The long drive home was spent in complete silence. Neither one of them could find the words to say. The tragedy was still fresh on their minds as they rode along, and they were, each of them, stricken mute by the memory of it.

Sanji hadn't even realized they'd made it back to his apartment complex until Nami cut the engine. He'd been zoned out for the whole duration of the drive, and had no idea how Nami had been able to concentrate for that long when she'd been so affected by all that had happened.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked her softly as she began to step out of the cab.

He followed after her, confused as to why she was getting out when she didn't live there. Another sick fantasy crossed his mind that involved her begging and pleading with him to let her stay the night with him, leading to him comforting her with his sex. Cursing himself for being so perverted in a time of crisis, he cast it from his mind as he joined her on the curb.

"I think so," she replied, oblivious to his fantasies. As she looked up at him, probably thinking about how he was such a kind gentleman to be worried about her his heart skipped a beat. He still half-hoped his fantasy was going to come true. "Um. I'm going to be staying at Zoro's apartment for a while, to take care of Chopper, so you'll probably be seeing me around. Just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't worry about him."

"O-oh, of course." Sanji was beyond disgusted with himself; how could he have possibly thought that way about her? "If you need any help with anything, this is me."

He led them to his apartment door and stalled there, digging his keys out of his pocket to unlock it, unsure if he should invite her in.

"Thank you," she said, and smiled weakly up at him before grabbing him in a surprise hug.

He refused to think anything lecherous as he returned the hug and simply tried to enjoy it for what it was. She broke away sniffling and then began to mount the stairs up to Zoro's apartment.

"See you around, Sanji," she called down to him, her voice regaining some of its usual charm despite being as hoarse as it was.

"Keep me updated," he said, finally stepping into his own apartment.

"I will."

Shutting the door, he leaned back against it and allowed himself to sink down to the floor.

" _I made some friends."_

" _That's good. I've been telling you to do that for years."_

The conversation he'd had with Zeff a few days prior replayed itself in his mind. As he held his head in his hands, he wondered if the people he now considered his friends would still want to be involved with him if they knew-

If they knew that _everything_ that had happened was all his fault.

" _All this because of me?"_

" _Yes. All this because of_ you."


	22. I Don't Want to Die (In the Hospital)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I don't give a damn what the doctors say  
> I ain't gonna spend another lonesome day  
> I don't want to die in the hospital  
> You gotta take me back outside
> 
> And they don't let you smoke and you can't get drunk  
> All there is to watch are these soap operas  
> I don't want to die in the hospital  
> You gotta take me back outside
> 
> Can you get this tube out of my arm?  
> Morphine in my blood like a slow sad song  
> I don't want to die in the hospital  
> You gotta take me back outside'

_The first time he dyed his hair was with cheaply bought store dye that didn't last for very long and almost washed out completely after the first rinse. He had surprised everyone in the house he was living in at the time when he emerged from the bathroom with badly bleached, splotchy looking green hair. He remembers how Kuina had first looked envious, and then laughed outright at him. He'd been proud of his first attempt, but the shit she gave him for it wounded him. Not that he'd ever let her know, though; he'd merely accused her of being jealous and found out that he was right. She was, so she then demanded he go with her so she could pick out some cool hair colour of her own._

_They didn't do any research into which brand of dye was the best, but they picked up a different brand than the one he'd used originally after the results he got were far from optimal. He bought himself another bottle of a similar looking green, and when they got back home they dyed each other's hair, laughing at one another for the way they looked while they waited for it to set. When it was done, Zoro's hair was a solid, definite green and Kuina's was a deep, dark blue that matched her eyes well._

_He never did outgrow that colour. That perfect, absolute shade of green._

" _You could lay down on the lawn and lose your hair in the grass," Kuina had once said._

His hair was fading; he'd been in the hospital for too long.

Not only were his roots beginning to come in, adding a layer of dark soil for his blades of green hair to sprout from, but it'd been almost two weeks since he'd last dyed it. It was fading horribly, leaving him with the same look and quality he'd had when he'd first tried to dye it. One of his nurses (who had green hair of her own) kept making snide remarks about it, but the pain killers his doctor had him on and the fact that he was  _still_ pretty much bedridden prevented him from getting rightfully angry with her.

He could do little more than flip her off whenever she came to check in on him and taunt him with how brilliant her hair looked.

It'd been four days since the accident, and all Zoro really wanted to do was go home, drink a beer or six, and get Nami to help him re-dye his hair. Four days, and the doctor who'd removed his eye wanted to keep him there for who knew how much longer.

It didn't make sense to him; they'd already explained how he would need to begin to care for his injury post-release, and even had a prescription written up for him for when he was able to go home- which they'd originally said he could do yesterday. The only reason they were keeping him hostage in the hospital was because those fucking painkillers they had him on made him too nauseous to leave his room. His only relief from the boredom and the irritating pain in his eye came in the form of visitors.

His whole team had come once, the day after the accident. They'd crowded the room and gave him a duffel bag filled with the things he'd left in his locker the day before and presented a huge, handmade 'get well soon' card to display by his bed. Even his coach had come with them, but he didn't have any words to share with Zoro. They spoke of general things in an effort to keep the atmosphere light, but it eventually degraded into tearful apologies from those who had been on the ice with him when he'd been attacked and done nothing to help him. Zoro found it embarrassing, and so was quick to forgive them.

No one from his team had come back after the first initial visit, but he hadn't really expected them to.

Nami came every day, but only stayed long enough to relay how Chopper was doing in her care and how work was going and who was giving his students lessons in his absence.

"It's actually kind of cool to see Franky playing again, but he's worried about you; we all are," she'd said to him once, sighing melodramatically as she leaned over the railing of his bed.

"I'm fine," he'd said, rolling his eye. "It's just one eye; not like I went blind. I still have a backup."

"Idiot! That's not why we have two eyes!"

She'd made to hit him then, but showed enough self-restraint to keep it gentle. Their conversation had stalled out for a minute then as she somberly tried to avoid looking at the bandages across his face. She'd directed her attention to the small TV that was in the room Zoro shared with another man who also had severe facial injuries. The TV was locked on a channel that only aired soap operas, which had made her laugh at first but was now almost sort of comforting to her.

"I've been trying to get Sanji to come see you," she'd said then, eyes flicking to the man who was happily watching the silent drama unfold on the television screen. "I don't know what his deal is. He was so worried about you, but now it's almost as if he's afraid to see you."

"I don't need that idiot around here," Zoro had said. "I've already got to deal with  _him._ "

Zoro tilted his head towards his roommate, who'd turned a dumb smile onto the two of them that only Nami returned.

The man's name was Duval, and he had, in both Zoro and Nami's opinion, a rather uncanny resemblance to Sanji from what they could see around his bandages. His injuries were a result from what he'd called a 'hate crime' that had been committed against him because he was, in his own words, 'too beautiful'.

"My looks sometimes make men act irrational with jealousy," he'd explained on the first day that Zoro had been moved into the semi-private room with him. "It was a hate crime! The man's girlfriend found my beauty too irresistible! He became enraged when he saw her talking with a man far more gorgeous than he, and yet he says  _I_ am to blame for flirting with her! I have no control over the way I look and how it makes women flock to me!"

Duval's attitude and looks had reminded Zoro far too much of Sanji, but despite what he'd told Nami the day before, he did find that he almost sort of missed the bastard.

There was no one else in his life that could match his wits or rise to the physical challenges he issued. Johnny and Yosaku came close, but they were push overs and drug peddlers who only really chummed up to him so he'd buy their product.

Tashigi had filled that spot for him years earlier, but after the breakup-

No, fuck- he wasn't going to think about her now.

Scowling, he turned his attention away from the TV he'd been mindlessly eyeballing and towards the various 'get well soon' cards and gifts he'd been sent during his time at the hospital. Stacked on the small bedside table was the huge card that had been signed by all his hockey teammates, and that one was surrounded by a few smaller ones that had come from his coworkers and students. Zoro didn't care much for sentimentality, but if he were being honest, the card he'd received from Tony was his favourite.

The kid had neat handwriting, but his penmanship evidently didn't transfer into his artistry, for the drawing he'd included of Zoro and him performing on stage together was shaky and scrunched up and overall very odd looking. The card itself didn't tell him that Tony hoped his recovery was quick and painless, but instead included a rather thinly veiled threat that Zoro was certain the child's grandmother had told him to write, as it said: 'Don't break your promise to me or else!'

If the doctors didn't release him in time for the Solstice show, Zoro swore he was just going to walk out. Not that he hadn't  _already_ tried that, but his attempt before had been so pitiful he didn't think it'd work again unless he had some sort of help.

It was his legal right to leave the hospital if he were well enough to do so, wasn't it?

And as much as his nurse Monet hated him, she wasn't likely to help him slip out unnoticed. Zoro figured she enjoyed making his stay at the hospital as shitty as she could make it as much as he enjoyed making her job as hard to do as he possibly could. He'd even tried asking Nami once to help bust him out, but had gotten so severely reprimanded by her that he'd nearly decided to give up on escaping altogether.

That is, until Thursday came around and his way out appeared.

On the fifth day of his hospitalization, Sanji finally came to visit.

The door to Zoro's room was closed when Sanji finally found it. The nurse that was working the station on the floor, though beautiful, had been entirely unhelpful in directing Sanji to the right room. As soon as he'd mentioned Zoro's name to her, her demeanor switched from flirty to frosty before he could even finish blinking the hearts out of his eyes.

"Oh,  _that_ guy is somewhere on my floor. Down that hall somewhere taking up space," she'd said icily, gesturing vaguely down the hall. Then she'd turned her back to him and proceeded to ignore him until he left.

He'd then spent the greater part of half an hour uneasily poking his head into various rooms to try and find where Zoro was being kept. Sanji hadn't told Nami he was coming to visit, otherwise he would have asked her for his room number, but he'd been avoiding her the past few days. She'd been pressuring him  _so much_ to come that it had begun to make him feel uncomfortable whenever he caught her outside of his complex.

That, coupled with the guilt of  _knowing_ just made it seem… wrong, he supposed. Even if no one else blamed him, Sanji knew to blame himself. It had taken him days to work through the guilt and reason that, even if it  _was_ his fault, he should at least acknowledge what had happened to the man. He needed to see for himself the extent of the damage he'd caused, though he doubted very much that Zoro would want to see him.

The look on Zoro's face when Sanji stepped through the door did little to change that feeling.

There was a huge, fierce scowl deeply embedded on his face that almost made Sanji turn around and leave until he realized that it wasn't being directed at him. Zoro was sat upright in his bed with his arms crossed tight across his chest, frowning at the wall-mounted TV. When Sanji looked at it, he saw that it was airing some sort of drama that had apparently just reached a pivotal point in the story.

"No! How could she  _do_ that to him!?"

Surprised by the outburst, Sanji hadn't realized Zoro was sharing a room with someone else until the other man burst out into emotional tears.

He turned to look at Zoro with a startled expression on his face before he took off the beanie and winter coat he'd been wearing.

" _This,"_ Zoro said, gritting his teeth and finally turning to address Sanji. " _This_ is what I have been dealing with for  _five fucking days."_

Sanji couldn't help but smirk, relieved to see at least that the injury hadn't changed Zoro's attitude much. He set his clothing aside on a spare chair and pulled up another to sit next to Zoro's bed. He glanced around the room, taking in how small the space was before he caught sight of the little bedside table full of gifts and cards.

"I didn't know you had friends," he commented, sounding bemused as he picked one up and read the standard Hallmark sentiment it contained.

"If I did, do you really think I'd be hanging out with you as much as I do?" Zoro bit out in reply.

Sanji was about to retort until he got a good look at the state Zoro was in. There was one large IV inserted into one of his arms, and a calmly beeping pulse monitor attached to his dominant hand. The bandages around his face did little to hide how tired Zoro seemed to be. His visible eye was dark-ringed and sunken, and his complexion was rather pale compared to how it usually was. They'd even taken out his safety pin earrings, effectively stripping him of his personality.

A twinge of sadness in his chest threatened to sour his mood and make him emotional, which was the last thing he wanted to do. Swallowing it down, Sanji replaced the card on the table and glanced back at Zoro.

"Natural brunette, huh?" Sanji couldn't help but say.

"Christ. And this is why I was glad when Nami said you didn't want to come. Get your rocks off by kicking a guy when he's already down?"

Sanji winced a bit inwardly, but outwardly grinned.

"You don't look that down to me."

And that was true, for the most part. Apart from looking like he hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in a few days and the bandages covering his eye, Zoro looked, well, as fine as he could have been given his situation.

He'd only been physically injured, after all; it wasn't like he was sick and recovering from that. Sanji didn't think hospitals usually held people who'd been hurt like Zoro had for more than a day or two at most. Hell, emergency rooms didn't even keep people for that long.

Which begged the question, "What are you still doing here?"

Zoro looked at him levelly for a moment, and then away with a shrug.

"This shit," he said, tapping the IV that was going into his arm. "Makes me nauseous, but the anti-nausea shit makes me sick. They've caught me in a loop and won't release me because they think I have the kind of money to keep paying for it all."

"Oh."

Frustrated, Zoro sighed. Sanji gave him a pitiable look as Duval cried out about the injustices of the show he was watching and demanded that the characters make amends. Begrudgingly, Zoro turned his attention to the TV to see what his roommate had been crying about as Sanji read another one of the cards.

"One of your students?" Sanji asked, holding up Tony's card.

Zoro didn't turn to look; merely nodded as Sanji took his time in appreciating the drawing. Whoever Tony was and drawn Zoro a little too tall and a little too skinny, but the angry expression on drawing was as accurate as it could've possibly been.

The visit was going much better for him than he'd expected it to, which filled him with an immense feeling of relief. Comforted by the feeling, Sanji replaced the card on the table just as Zoro swore loudly under his breath. Before Sanji could say or do anything to stop him, Zoro had jerked the blankets off of his bed abruptly and swung himself around so that his legs went over the non-railed side of his bed.

"What are you doing-" Sanji tried to say, completely taken aback as Zoro interrupted him.

"I'm done sitting here. You're going to help me get out," he growled, holding his head for a moment before looking around to give Sanji a stern look.

"What? No- how would I even begin to do that?" Sanji shook his head in disbelief. "I don't think it's even  _legal_ to leave before you've been officially discharged-"

"Shut the fuck up and close the goddamn door!" Zoro all but shouted.

"Oh my god you're serious."

Sanji backed out of the chair with a screech and hurriedly went to shut the door to the room before their raised voices attracted Monet's attention. He turned back around to see Zoro struggling with trying to peel up the tape that kept the IV in his arm and shared a look of concern with Duval, who had suddenly lost interest in his show.

"You're trying this again?" Duval asked, cocking his head to the side as Zoro finally succeeded, wincing visibly as he and pulled the needle out of his body.

" _Again_?" Sanji asked, somehow unsurprised as the needle was dropped to the floor.

"Shut up. Yes,  _again._  Get my duffle bag under the bed," Zoro ordered, ignoring the fact that he had begun to sweat with the effort of getting himself up. The nausea that had been plaguing him for the entire duration of his stay was beginning to flare up again.

"Fuck," Sanji muttered as he crouched down so he could reach for the bag and bring it up. He set it down on the chair he'd been sitting on previously and then looked to Zoro, who had stood up with a slight wobble.

"Get my clothes out," Zoro said, turning towards Sanji who had had to look away when he realized the hospital gown Zoro was wearing was untied and open down the back.

He tried to hide the flush from his face by busying himself with rifling through the contents of the bag, but knew from Duval's laughter that he wasn't fooling anyone.

"I didn't know there was supposed to be a full moon tonight," Duval cackled, leaning back in his bed to laugh comfortably.

"Shut the  _fuck up_! Can't fucking wait to be rid of you," Zoro growled, wiping the sweat that had accumulated across his forehead away. He was more annoyed than embarrassed.

Zoro stood there stupidly for a moment, watching Sanji go through his bag before he had to sit back down on the end of his bed. He must've stood up too fast or something, as his head was beginning to spin, bringing the room around with it. Ignoring it as best he could, he watched as Sanji pulled out his pair of pants.

Sanji stared at the piece of clothing aghast.

"If Frankenstein had been a fashion designer instead of a mad scientist," he said, holding the pair of pants up for Duval to see. "These would have been his monster."

The pants in question looked as though they were made from two different pairs. There was an even split directly through the middle of the jeans going through the crotch so that one pants leg was red plaid and the other was solid black. Both legs had black patches sewn into them that advertised bands Zoro evidently liked enough to wear around.

"What'd I say about kicking a man when he's already down?" Zoro snapped irritably, snatching the pants away from Sanji before he could find anything else about them to shit talk. "Find my shirt."

"What, no underwear?" Sanji asked, then wished he hadn't as Zoro began trying to stuff one of his legs into the pants.

"Don't wear any on game days." Zoro grunted as he struggled to work his way through the tight pants leg. "'s what jockstraps are for."

Sanji felt his face flushing again, but thankfully it seemed as though Zoro was too preoccupied with putting his pants on to notice. He tried to force himself not to think about it too much as he continued going through the duffel bag, pulling out a thick, patched hoodie and a plain t shirt.

He politely averted his eyes as Zoro continued the struggle, grunting as he stood up briefly to adjust himself. After he finally seemed to have gotten his pants on and buttoned, Sanji handed over his shirt.

Zoro took it, but made no move to put it on. Instead he'd grown quite still, sitting back down on the side of his bed with his face screwed up in concentration.

"What? What is it?" Sanji asked, concerned as he noticed that Zoro's complexion had become steadily greener over the duration of his visit.

"This is why he didn't get very far the first time," Duval said knowingly.

Zoro looked like he wanted to reply, but instead closed his eye and took a deep breath as he felt his stomach begin to want to heave.

"Take this- the fucking- take the pulse monitor off," he said, holding out his hand towards Sanji who looked at it doubtfully.

"Won't that just alert the nurse if you suddenly start flat-lining?"

"Fuck," Zoro breathed out, still unwilling to open his eye. He put his hand back on his knee to steady it as his leg began to bob up and down.

Second thoughts began manifesting themselves in Sanji's mind as he saw just how bad Zoro's body handled the nausea that came with the pain reliving medicines he was on. Zoro looked like he would barely be able to stand, let alone walk down the hall to the elevator or even out the building.

"Maybe you  _should_ stay here," Sanji tried to say, but went silent when Zoro's head snapped up to glare at him deeply.

" _No_." Zoro was sweating heavily at that point, and he had to wipe his face clean again. "I'm not staying here another  _fucking_ day."

"I'll wear it."

Both Zoro and Sanji turned to look at Duval, who held up his hand to wave it at them. They were both confused before he clarified by saying, "The pulse monitor. I'll wear it so she won't know."

"Won't you get in trouble when they find out you duped them?" Sanji asked with a frown.

"Not if I was asleep when you slipped it on me without my knowing," Duval replied with a grotesque wink that made both Sanji and Zoro wince.

Despite being unsure that this was the right course of action to take with Zoro in the condition he was in, Sanji helped to transfer the pulse monitor over onto Duval's free hand. It went quickly, and no noise or other indicator was made by the machine tracking his pulse other than an inconsistent beep for a second that a swap had been made. Zoro seemed relieved by this, but his nausea was still going strong and was actively trying to gain the upper hand over him.

He had Sanji help him into his shirt and hoodie with pauses in between as he tried to keep himself from succumbing to the overbearing sensations his nausea produced. His stomach was seizing, his head was spinning, and he'd already begun to sweat through the shirt he'd just put on.

Again, Sanji was faced with doubts with what they were attempting to do.

"Help me put my boots on," Zoro said, using all his concentration to keep his body sitting upright instead of curling over to ease the sensation.

In any other situation, Sanji would have told him to fuck off and do it himself if he wanted to get out so damn badly, but he didn't. Instead, he knelt down silently by Zoro's feet and did his best with shoving them first into socks and then into his classic cherry red Docs. After he finished lacing them up, Sanji came to a stand and took a good, long hard look at Zoro.

He was still green tinged and sweaty, but appeared resolute and determined to walk out regardless. Sanji wasn't sure he'd be able to, no matter how strongly he wanted to leave. He wanted to ask if Zoro was certain he wanted to try and go through with it, but instead asked, "Won't the nurse recognize you if you just walk out?"

"She doesn't care," Duval and Zoro said at the same time.

Duval laughed, but Zoro could only smirk weakly.

"She watched him walk out the first time," Duval said, smiling reminiscently. "Even walked with him a ways before he collapsed."

"Okay, well,  _she_  might not, but what if someone else recognizes you? Like your doctor? You don't exactly have what I'd call a 'forgettable face'. Your hair alone sets you apart."

"That's the point," Zoro said lamely.

"You dense motherfucker, I know that's your whole  _shtick_ but even if we make it off the floor, I don't think we're going to make it out of the building if everyone recognizes and knows you're still supposed to be hospitalized."

Zipping up Zoro's duffel bag, Sanji sighed and set it on the floor so he could reclaim the seat, trying to think of a solution that could work in preventing the punk from being recognized on his way out. The eye bandages that took up a third of his face were already something the staff of a hospital would notice; it would be hard enough trying to smuggle him out based on that fact alone. He could always wear his hoodie with the hood up, but given the anti-social clothing he was in, Sanji supposed that Zoro already cut too much of a foreboding figure to risk going out with the hood on.

Some self-righteous security guard or something was certain to stop them then, especially with the size of Zoro's duffel bag that he would be carrying.

"Weren't you wearing a hat when you came in?" Sanji looked up at Duval, who was smiling curiously at him from across the room. "Hats work well for hiding hair."

"Shit,  _now_ you decide you want to be helpful?" Zoro said, still trying to keep himself from shaking. "It only took you a fucking week to do."

"Well, if you leave I can finally turn the volume on for my shows and the season finale for this one comes on tonight! I'm pretty pleased to see you go, actually."

Wordlessly, Sanji got up from his seat and grabbed his beanie that was lying atop his coat. He tossed it to Zoro, who grabbed it as it landed limply on the bed. He put it on and pulled it down, making sure his ears and forehead were covered entirely before he shot Sanji a 'is this good enough?' look.

"I guess that'll work," Sanji said, scrutinizing the way his beanie masked most of Zoro's more recognizable features.

While Zoro didn't look quite as conspicuous as before, the bandages on his face still stood out. There wasn't much either of them could do about that, though, short of taking them off, which would have been a worse idea than this already was.

"Good luck, guys," Duval said, giving the two of them the most horrific wink either of them had ever seen and which almost made Zoro throw up then and there.

Sanji retrieved his jacket and put it on hurriedly, opening the door to Zoro's room to make sure the hall was clear before they made their attempt. Monet was still at her station, which was mercifully located at the opposite end of the hall from the elevator. They wouldn't have to walk past her to get there, but it was in clear view of her desk; if she looked up from whatever she was doing at any point while they were moving, she'd definitely see them.

It was a risk they'd simply have to take.

Turning back around, Zoro had come to a stand and was waiting by the chair with his duffel bag on it. He was definitely paler than he had been and looked as though he'd be sick at any moment. He was swaying on his feet, and Sanji couldn't tell if Zoro was aware of that or not.

"We're going to have to walk fast," Sanji said, going to grab the bag and hoist it over his shoulder so Zoro wouldn't have to struggle with anything other than himself. He studied Zoro seriously for a moment, trying to find any last minute flaw he could to try and convince them that this was a terrible idea. He couldn't. "Let's go."

Sanji led the way but quickly realized that Zoro wasn't going to be able to keep up with the quick pace he'd set. He was already breathing fast and had a weird, disoriented glazed look about him as he followed behind. The elevator was only a hundred feet away, but it might have been a hundred feet that Zoro couldn't walk.

His footsteps were hard and heavy as he sluggishly moved along, trying his best to concentrate solely on the effort of escaping and not letting his nausea get the better of him. He could barely even register where it was he was going, and only knew to follow after Sanji's form. The lines on the linoleum flooring helped to guide him as he did his best to at least keep walking straight along them, but for some reason they liked to lean and curve at random points.

"We're almost there," Sanji said, speaking quietly as he fell back to match Zoro's stride. "You can lean on me if you need."

Glancing over his shoulder back to Monet's position to make sure they were still in the clear, Sanji felt his heart sink in his chest when he saw that she was obviously watching them. She had a smirk on her face, but didn't seem to be trying to alert anyone to Zoro's escape. Instead, she blew Sanji a kiss and waved them goodbye.

Sanji's heart fluttered for a moment before he felt Zoro suddenly grab hold of his arm. Startled out of his brief romantic longings, he saw that Zoro had taken him up on his offer and was now using Sanji as a support. Neither of them said anything about it as they finally reached the elevator, with Zoro breathing heavily through his nose and sweating profusely.

They thankfully only had to wait for about a minute after they pressed the down button before the elevator stopped to let them in. The only person that had been inside got off on their floor, but not before they shot a quizzical look at Zoro's condition.

Sanji flashed them what he hoped was a reassuring smile before he hurried them onto the elevator and pressed the button to close the doors repeatedly until they obeyed. Zoro heaved a huge sigh as he shut his eye and rested back against the elevator wall, waiting to be transported down two floors. Sanji pressed the lobby button and hoped Zoro would last long enough to walk out the front of the building; the hardest part was yet to come.

There were going to be more people waiting in the hospital lobby, which meant there was more of a chance for someone who worked there to spot Zoro before they could leave. It was also a longer walk from the elevator to the sliding glass front doors, and if Zoro had struggled just to make it to the elevator in the first place, then how the hell was he going to be able to surmount that greater distance without drawing attention to himself?

One glance at the man told him that he probably couldn't. All they could do was try.

"You can't lean on me when we walk through the lobby," Sanji said, adjusting the duffel bag's strap as they descended. "It'll be too obvious."

"Won't need to," Zoro said in response, opening his eye to up at the ceiling.

He was nearly drenched in a cold sweat and had a hard time keeping his head from spinning but felt like he was getting a good handle over his nausea regardless. His stomach told him otherwise, but Zoro was certain he could keep it contained at least until they were outside and away from any prying eyes. The empty socket was throbbing now, pulsing in time with his rapid heartbeat but hadn't yet begun to hurt. Despite the fact that it gave him debilitating nausea, the morphine at least did its job well.

"When we get outside, you wait out front off to the side somewhere and I'll bring my car around to get you," Sanji said, watching as the elevator counted down their floors. "I had to park in the deck. It'll probably be easier for you to wait than to try and walk to it."

"Fine."

Before anything else could be said, the elevator dinged and opened to the lobby floor. There was a small crowd of people waiting to get on as the doors opened, prompting Sanji to quickly step out, hoping Zoro would keep up with him. It was obvious now that Zoro was struggling, but he managed to follow after him easily enough.

Sanji could hear the heavily labored breathing from Zoro as they slowly began to make their way towards the exit. They walked side by side, passing through the main lobby at a slow and general pace. Sweat was sliding down the sides of Zoro's face as they progressed, but amazingly enough, he didn't falter a single step. He kept his eye locked in a stern gaze at the doorway and focused only on moving with Sanji towards his perceived freedom as though he'd been jailed and just been released.

Perhaps due in part to the grungy clothing Zoro was wearing, Sanji noticed that as they walked through the lobby no one looked at them twice or tried to stop their progress. Zoro had a mean, deterring look about him that Sanji had noticed on the first day that they'd met, and was relieved to see that it worked on the general public as well. They made it out of the hospital without anyone trying to stop them, which was nothing short of a miracle in Sanji's humble opinion.

Zoro sucked in a deep breath of the outside air as they moved quickly out of sight of the front desk, moving down the sidewalk several feet before the nausea finally demanded its host sit. He sat down as carefully he could on the side of the curb, resting his arms on his legs and letting his head hang down between them.

"I'll get the car," Sanji said, to which Zoro simply gave him a thumbs up in response.

He hurried away, hoisting the duffel bag up high onto his shoulder and disappeared down the walkway. Zoro hoped that the trick they'd pulled with Duval would buy them enough time for Sanji to pull around the car up and drive them off before anyone noticed and tried to reclaim him.

As warm as it was in the hospital, Zoro hadn't minded being as sweaty as he was, but when the wind went by he shivered dramatically and remembered it was the middle of December. The sweat trapped two layers down against his skin had already been cold enough, but was now sticky and empowered by the chilled air.

His stomach heaved again, and this time he couldn't stop it.

Thankful that he hadn't eaten yet that day, all his stomach could force up was liquids. He puked hunched over with his head between his legs, his stomach coming up onto the pavement between his boots. There was a brief moment where he felt instantly better before his stomach convulsed again and started a cycle of painful dry heaving.

There was no one nearby to hear him groan as some of the pain of his eye surfaced in conjunction with the pain in his stomach. When Sanji finally pulled up, Zoro was still hunched over.

Parking as close to the curb as he could with the passenger side door closest to Zoro, Sanji got out and tried to help the injured man to his feet. At first it seemed as though Zoro didn't want to uncurl, but after his stomach convinced him to spit up all the liquids it had left inside, he did finally come to a stand. He was trembling noticeably, but Sanji ignored it as he helped Zoro slide into the passenger seat.

Sanji didn't badger him about buckling up as he pulled away from the hospital front, and in return Zoro didn't have anything to say about the pop music that was playing through the car speakers. He sat with his eye closed, curled up as best he could on the car seat with his head pressed firmly against the cold window, breathing hard, yet still trying to fall asleep as Katy Perry sang to him on the ride home.


	23. Around the Dial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Well, you were my favorite D.J.,  
> Since I can't remember when.  
> You always played the best records,  
> You never followed any trend.  
> F.M., A.M. where are you?  
> You gotta be out there somewhere on the dial.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good news: i decided to make mixed up my nanowrimo project this year so hopefully ill FINISH IT
> 
> bad news: im already 4k words behind :^)
> 
> so  
> yeah
> 
> leave yo thoughts on the chappie/story over all in the comments pls and thank
> 
> first song is wherefore art thou elvis and the second is keepsake, both by the gaslight anthem if ya wanna look em up and listen
> 
> OH also i made some art for the story you can find [HERE](https://78.media.tumblr.com/7e67de90cab2ea2dac0d8987fc479bab/tumblr_inline_ouxhc4vhRB1qax64x_540.png) and [HERE](https://img00.deviantart.net/70dc/i/2017/242/e/1/punq_as_fuq_by_saint_duke-dblv1uu.png)

' _You! Make! Me! Feel like I'm living a- teen! Age! Dream!'_

It was Sanji's ringtone that ended up interrupting his sleep, and for one panicked moment upon awaking, Zoro was afraid he was in the back of another ambulance, being transported to the very hospital he'd just escaped from. He lurched forward with a sudden, sharp intake of breath and almost hit his head on the dashboard. If he'd been wearing a seatbelt, it would have locked.

Sanji seemed surprised by both the call and Zoro's extreme reaction to it, swerving slightly as Zoro's body jerked abruptly upright from the sleeping position it had been in moments prior.

"Jesus," Sanji muttered as he quickly righted the car into the lane he'd been riding in, but not before noticing the way Zoro's shoulders slumped as he allowed himself to relax when he realized where he was, easing back into his seat with a sigh and grimace of pain.

"You gonna answer that or what?" Zoro grumbled, reaching his hand up to pull the beanie he'd been wearing off his head. He dropped it into his lap, holding it so he could run the fabric between his fingers as he stared forlornly out the window.

"Don't tell me how to live my life," Sanji replied half-heartedly, ignoring the way Zoro snorted to pick up his phone out of the cup-holder. He kept one eye trained on the road as he glanced down briefly to see whose name it was on the screen, and felt his stomach sink when he saw who it was. "Oh, shit."

Nami's name and (beautiful) picture were displayed under his thumb, which hovered indecisively over the green button on the screen. Knowing Zoro was beside him, he figured he already knew what she was calling him about.

"You're drifting," Zoro remarked casually, unaware and uncaring of whoever was calling. He had other concerns, as his nausea was trying to flare up again in the form of motion sickness. While he fiddled with the hat, he went to rest his head against the cool windowpane again, stifling a groan and closing his eyes in an attempt to prevent himself from being sick again.

Cursing softly under his breath, Sanji righted his steering once again and took a long, deep breath. The phone kept ringing in his hand, but instead of answering it he set it down and fumbled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He'd definitely need a smoke for this.

"Get one out for me," he said to Zoro, prompting him to take the pack from him. Zoro said nothing, and moved just enough to be able to take it and pull a cigarette out.

Just as the call was about to roll over to voice mail, Sanji took another deep, centering breath and answered the phone, doing his best to greet her as happily and obliviously as he could.

"Hello my darling! What a pleasure it is that you've-"

" _Zoro is missing!"_ She blurted out, interrupting him at once. He winced at her outburst, his heart paining him when he heard the amount of concern she held in her voice.

"Well, actually-" he tried to say, but became distracted by Zoro trying to pass the cigarette to him. Squishing his phone between his ear and shoulder, he took it thankfully and then tried to shimmy his lighter out of his front pocket. "Don't be upset-"

"' _Don't be upset'?! How can I_ not  _be upset when the hospital fucking_ lost  _him! I don't know what to do; how does a hospital lose a patient?!"_

Now she sounded angry, and he could tell that she was directing it at someone other than himself. Nervously, he realized she was actually at the hospital, probably yelling at the poor nurse who "lost" Zoro. Confirming his thought, he could hear the woman who'd been on call when he was there reply, saying, " _He snuck out on his own, we didn't_ lose  _him."_

" _Well if you had done your fucking_ job  _then he wouldn't have had the chance! You were supposed to be monitoring him!"_

She was far angrier than Sanji had anticipated her being, thought it made sense when he thought about it. If someone he'd cared about had suddenly vanished from a place he'd trusted to take care of them, he'd be just as angry. He began to feel slightly remorseful of his actions, but yet, strangely, he was beginning to feel annoyed with Nami as well. He shoved that feeling aside and instead focused on lighting his cigarette. He got it lit on the second try and cracked the window quickly, tossing his lighter into his trusted cup holder as the icy December wind whisked in through the opening, tussling his bangs with the gust.

He inhaled deeply on his cigarette and listened to her rage at the nurse for a moment before he tried to intervene again.

"Nami, darling, I know you're upset, but listen-"

But as he was about to tell her that Zoro was not missing, and was, in fact, with  _him_ , he lost his nerve. To hear her yelling so unfavorably at the nurse had him wondering how she would react if she knew he'd played such a pivotal part in Zoro's disappearance. He was stuck between wanting to tell her so she'd stop worrying, and not telling her in order to stay in her good graces. As he tried to decide which was the right decision to make, he chanced a glance at Zoro and saw that he was staring at him, obviously having heard Nami yelling over the line.

He was beginning to take on a pallor hue again, but Sanji broke eye contact before he could think too much about it. Nami was arguing vehemently with Monet as he sighed, flicking the ash off his cigarette out the window. Surely she'd understand if he just  _explained_ to her why he'd done it, but as he was still mentally debating on what the best way to do that was, he heard Zoro say something low under his breath. Before Sanji could register what was happening, Zoro reached out and grabbed hold of his hand, pulling the phone away from his face and closer to his own so he could speak into it clearly.

"Nami I'm  _fine_. Leave the nurse alone, she didn't know," he said, sounding miserable and annoyed. Sanji's face looked horrified as Zoro let go, looking at him with a resigned look in his eye that told him they were both in deep shit now.

It was a moment in time when Sanji became acutely aware of what it was he feared the most. A saying as old as time itself, how did it go? Hell hath no fury…?

Sanji, terrified of what her reaction was going to be, put the phone back to his ear and merged into a slower lane of traffic so he'd have an easier time focusing on both the road and Nami's distress.

With how angry she'd been only moments ago, Sanji expected to hear her shrieking like a banshee at him now, but instead heard nothing. The line was dead silent, and as he pulled his phone away for a second to check if the call had ended, he heard Monet's bitter laughter in the background.

" _Was that Zoro?"_ Nami asked, venom dripping from her voice.

Sanji swallowed hard, knowing he had to own up to his part in Zoro's escape and hoped that she'd forgive him if he begged her to enough.

"Yes, he's with me, we-"

Before he could explain further, she hung up on him.

"Fuck me," Sanji said, sighing deeply as he dropped his phone back into the cup holder with his lighter. "Because of you, she's pissed  _at me_."

"She'll get over it," Zoro grunted, shifting in his seat uncomfortably to lean his head back against the window.

"I knew this was going to end in tragedy," he moaned, toggling his blinker on as he drove his car onto the highway exit. "I'll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again! I-"

In the cup holder, his phone had begun to ring again and was vibrating loudly against his lighter in tune with the ringtone. He turned to look at it with a mild level of apprehension, his woes temporarily forgotten.

"Christ, would you just answer it?" Zoro groaned, turning to glare at Sanji as he let it ring. "Can't be any worse than the one you just got. The shitty pop music is giving me a headache."

He returned the mean look before reaching out to pick his phone up, holding it as though it were a bomb that would detonate with too much movement. On his phone's display he saw that it was Nami calling him back. Unsure of what her motivation for dialing him again was, he answered with some trepidation.

"…Hello?"

Nami sighed deeply before she spoke.

" _Thank you for telling me he's with you, the hospital was about to call the police."_

"Oh, shit," he murmured, feeling a chill go through him briefly. The thought that he'd possibly committed a crime by assisting in Zoro's escape had never occurred to him. Did it count as kidnapping if the person being 'kidnapped'  _wanted_  to be taken away?

" _Yeah,"_ she replied. Over the phone, he could hear her walking quickly down a hallway. " _I'm going to talk to his doctor and see what he says about Zoro's early 'release'. Guess I'll get his prescription filled on the way back."_

"Are you coming to the apartment?" Sanji asked as he continued navigating their way to said destination.

" _After all this is settled, yeah."_ She sounded more tired than angry now, and Sanji could understand why. He felt bad for having caused her so much grief. " _Even if the doctor says Zoro has to come back, I don't think he will, so I have to get my stuff out of his apartment and make sure he understands what he has to do to keep his eye clean."_

"That's very kind of you; I wish  _I_ were the one who'd been injured so I could have you take care of me," he said in an effort to cheer her up. He got a weak chuckle in response, followed by a shallow sigh as he turned off the secondary road and onto the main road that would lead them back to their apartment complex.

" _I wouldn't want you to get hurt that way,"_  she said quietly, and for a moment she was didn't know what to say to that, and wished he hadn't suggested it in the first place. It was in bad taste, he realized now, but couldn't take it back.  _"Well, I'll call you after I meet with the doctor and let you know what he says. Don't let Zoro run away again before I get there, okay?"_

"I'll keep my eye- I'll do my best," he said, mentally criticizing himself for his poor word choice. He lowered his phone and slipped it back into the cup holder after she hung up.

Turning to Zoro, he wanted to tell him about what she'd just said, but found that he was curled up and asleep in his seat again. Sweat had begun to bead up across his face, dripping down along his cheek bone and forehead, leaving behind shiny streaks as they dripped across his dark skin. Going off of the experiences of the day, Sanji knew that wasn't a particularly good sign.

Even though they were less than ten minutes away from their complex, the speed limit had dropped considerably from when they were on the highway. It wouldn't take much longer to get there, but he wasn't sure how much longer Zoro had before the nausea forced him to eventually react.

Finished with his cigarette, Sanji popped it out the window and rolled it back up, sealing the wind away with a quiet suctioning noise. He switched the car stereo from the CD player to the radio and then hit the scan button, letting it shift aimlessly through stations until it landed on something he liked.

Adjusting the volume dial to something low enough that probably wouldn't bother Zoro's 'nap', Sanji listened inattentively as it flicked through songs of pop, rap, static, commercials, and-

" _I cut my teeth on the stone of a teenage romance-"_

Before Sanji could even register that it was  _Zoro's_ voice that he'd heard for that brief second on the radio, the scanner had switched to a different station.

"Shit, go back," he hissed, hitting the scan button again so it would stop its aimless progression. His fingers fumbled over the button to backtrack through the stations until he heard Zoro's unique voice singing again. He sat back in his seat, gripping the wheel with both hands and staring out the windshield, eyes wide with awe, listening to the song that was playing softly over the radio.

Hardly audible, he turned the volume up.

" _And in the breath from my chest I was blowing kerosene, my lips and fingertips were stone I wore my heart on my jeans. I sang the blues like the dogs left too long in the street; I still sing the blues with the dogs."_

He'd known Zoro's band had been popular, but popular enough to see radio play? Shit, that was impressive, and he suddenly wished he had friends of any sort that he could brag to about it.

It was a song of theirs he hadn't heard before, despite all the snooping he'd done during the previous days. He was sure he would have recognized the deep, distinctive bass lines that were being paired with the grit of Zoro's voice and the enforcing rhythm of the drums. The tones themselves were thick and low, resonating deeply within the speakers of his car until the song reached the chorus. Then it lightened up and grew louder, stirring Zoro from his sleep.

Confused by the sound of his own voice being projected loudly back at him, it took a minute for him to comprehend what was going on and why he was hearing himself.

"That's you," Sanji said dumbly as Zoro winced and sat up. "You're on the radio."

Zoro blinked slowly and then turned his direction towards the radio display. There was no way of knowing what he was thinking as they listened, as his face remained impassive. This obviously wasn't something new to him, but still seemed to have caught him by surprise.

"An old one," was all he said.

Old or not, it was  _good_ ; Sanji had to admit that much. The depth of the lyrics went well beyond what he thought a Neanderthal like Zoro was capable of producing. There was an emotion that toed the line between sad and angry that was being conveyed in the music, accompanying the gruff nature of his voice that he somehow managed to make work. There was a good balance of both as the song progressed, which Sanji found he liked. Was it a love song? A breakup song? It definitely revolved around a romance as the opening line had said, but the rest of the lyrics left it open to interpretation.

As focused as he was on the song, Sanji almost missed the turn into their apartment complex and had to swing abruptly into it, causing the car behind him to honk loudly at his carelessness.

He waved an apology as the car drove past and then continued on towards their building, unaware that the sudden motion had worsened the way Zoro was feeling. As the song began to wind down, Sanji cast him a grin that was lost immediately when he saw how sick his passenger had begun to look.

"Almost there," he said anxiously, hoping that he would be able to hold it in for just a little bit longer.

Zoro sat with his hand on the door handle, ready to pop it open and bail as soon as they came to a stop should his stomach demand he do so.

" _And that, folks, was a song by the late, great Mugiwara Menace; straight out of the 'where are they now?' vault for your listening pleasure."_

"Asshole," Zoro spat as the DJ tied off their song with his commentary.

Sanji turned the radio off as he pulled into a parking spot that was, thankfully, directly in front of their building. He cut the engine and got out, grabbing his phone and quickly rounding his car as Zoro stumbled out of the passenger side door. Catching him, Sanji led them up the curb and to the bottom of the stairwell, where they stood looking at the ascending wooden steps doubtfully.

"I can't make it up," Zoro said, angry with himself and his current state of incompetence.

Wordlessly, Sanji turned them towards his apartment door and unlocked it, leading him inside and to his couch, where he sat Zoro down with a low grunt.

"Do you need the bathroom?" Sanji asked uncertainly, standing before him with little idea as to what he was supposed to do in order to help him. "Or a… bucket?"

"No, just-" Zoro shuddered. "Just give me a minute."

"Better not puke on my couch," Sanji said, eyeing the sick man warily.

"I will if you keep talking about it."

Before Sanji could retort, his phone began to ring. He shot Zoro one final warning look before he saw that it was Nami's promised return phone call.

"I'll be right back," he said, knowing that there was nothing else he could do for Zoro now except hope he didn't hurl on the rented furniture. Zoro waved his hand in recognition, allowing him to step outside to answer Nami. "Hello, my darling! What have you got for me?"

" _Hey, Sanji_." She returned his greeting with far less enthusiasm than he had given her, but he'd grown used to her lack of enthusiasm. " _I have good news, bad news, and weird news."_

Sanji sighed, trying not to worry too hard about how each of them applied to him. It was hard not to, though; in the back of his mind, he was already planning out how he'd try to appeal his case should he be charged with criminal action. He knew Zeff had a good lawyer, but whether or not the old geezer would let him take advantage of that was something he couldn't be sure of.

"Bad news first," he said, pulling out his pack of cigarettes in anticipation. A small ball of anxiety had made itself home in the pit of his stomach.

" _The bad news is that the hospital decided they were going to charge Zoro an extra day for his room, and, so I don't keep you in suspense, the good news is that they decided not to press charges. They also said he didn't have to come back, especially since he seemed well enough to leave on his own anyway."_

A great sense of relief flooded through him as she told him he wasn't going to be prosecuted. The last thing he wanted- or needed- was to end his month off by insulting Zeff with a brand new criminal record.

"That's marvelous! I'm so thankful to know you and so sorry I had to put you into this situation on my behalf!" He relaxed against his apartment door, unable to keep himself from smiling. He shoved his cigarettes back into his pocket, deciding he didn't need one after all. "What's the weird news then, love?"

" _The_ weird  _new is that someone decided to foot his hospital bill,"_ she replied. In the background, he heard a car door squeaking open and shut as she got into her truck.

Sanji blinked, the smile falling away uneasily. The ball of anxiety in his stomach rolled.

"What?"

" _Yeah. The doctor said whoever it was requested to remain anonymous, but they wanted to pay for all of his expenses; I have no idea who it could be, do you?"_

"No," he lied, mouth going dry.

" _I mean, who the hell likes him enough to do that? I thought maybe some of his fans found out, but the bill was pretty big; I doubt even if they pooled money together they'd be able to afford it. So whoever it was must have a ton of money to just throw away like that,"_ she rambled, starting her truck. He heard it groan into life with a splutter and cough. " _Anyway, that's all I have for you now. I'm going to run by the drugstore to get his meds and then I'll head over. How is he?"_

"Nauseous, mostly," Sanji remarked, his need to pour as many words of affection as he could upon her mysteriously absent. "He was sick earlier."

" _I figured he would be, he struggled with that a lot the last time he was hospitalized. Take care of him, I'll be there soon."_

"Okay. Bye," he said, unable to channel any of his usual flirty demeanor to send her away with.

With the call ended, Sanji stood still for a moment, trying to comprehend what she'd told him and how he'd best be able to relay it all back to Zoro before re-entering his apartment. He pocketed his phone and took a seat beside Zoro on the couch, who was beginning to look a bit better.

"Was that Nami?" he asked, to which Sanji merely nodded. "Tell her to bring me some weed."

"Did anything weird happen while you were in the hospital?" Sanji asked, ignoring Zoro's request. He met Zoro's gaze with a serious look, which in turn made him frown. There was something about the refrained look Zoro held in his eye that told him something had happened. "What was it?"

For a moment, Sanji thought he wasn't going to tell him. Biting the inside of his cheek, Zoro averted his eye to look solemnly at the floor.

"Robin," he said eventually, looking up to stare into the dark screen of Sanji's TV. He crossed his arms across his chest and slouched deeply into the cushions. "Robin came to visit me when I was in the hospital. Third day."

A cold shiver shot down his spine, which he tried to suppress but was unable to do so completely. Robin again. How much had she told him? Would she have said anything to him about his involvement?

"Robin? That  _gorgeous_  woman who saved us at the art show?" It pained him to play dumb, but not knowing what she had said to him made him nervous.

"Yeah."

"What did she want? Come to ask you for my number?" he joked, hoping that he wasn't making too big of an ass out of himself.

Zoro's face was stern and unreadable; a neutral expression that did little to ease Sanji's nerves. As he was about to re-state his question, Zoro broke the queer way he was staring dead ahead and shrugged casually.

"Dunno. I was pretending to be asleep when she walked in because the damned doctor wouldn't leave me alone that day. Duval said she didn't do anything but read some of my cards and leave a bouquet I let Monet have. She didn't stay very long."

Sanji released the deep breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. Another overwhelming sense of relief coursed through him, dissipating his anxiety even though he knew he'd have to tell Zoro the truth about Robin's involvement at some point, but that time didn't have to be now.

"That's weird," he said, relaxing back into his seat.

"What made you ask?" Zoro prompted then, mimicking Sanji's action and shutting his eye.

"Oh, that's right, Nami called. She said they were going to charge you an extra day for your room, but that you didn't have to go back." With all his anxieties lifted, he began chatting easily, some of his standard charm returning to him. "The reason I ask is that she said the staff said someone already paid your hospital bill for you."

"The fuck?" Opening his eye, Zoro fixed Sanji with a look of utter surprise. "Who the hell-?"

Sanji shrugged and tried to play it cool.

"We couldn't figure it out."

Baffled, Zoro sat in a state of disbelief until he shook himself out of it.

"Fucking bizarre. I wonder if I can make them refund that; I don't like the idea of being in debt to some anonymous asshole."

If Sanji were in his position, he would've felt the same way. It would have driven him insane to know someone had done that for him without even telling him who they were.

"Could've been your teammates," he theorized, trying to take Zoro's train of thought away from possibly linking the act of generosity back to Robin. "Or even the fucker who hospitalized you to begin with."

"Doubt it was the team," Zoro muttered, though he seemed to have picked up on the idea that it could have been his aggressor trying to make amends. "Why would he have done it anonymously though?"

"No idea."

"Fucking bizarre," Zoro repeated quietly, and then closed his eye again. "I'll settle it later."

His visible eye was dark ringed and sunken, illustrating just how exhausted he was after struggling to get himself out of the hospital. In about half a minute he was asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. Sanji had wanted to ask him about the song they'd listened to together earlier but knew it was important to let him rest, especially given the circumstances. There was still a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, attracting Sanji's gaze to Zoro's resting face.

The couch wasn't large enough for the two of them suddenly; they were far too close to each other and their proximity was beginning to make his heart start pounding. Sanji stood up hurriedly and stepped around into his kitchen. His face was warm and he knew he was blushing, causing him to scowl with embarrassment.

This was so unbecoming of him. It pained him to feel the emotions he did towards Zoro sometimes. With a forlorn sigh, he stared angrily at the little tufts of Zoro's hair that he could see peeking out over the edge of the couch.

Green wasn't so bad of a color.

Angrily he turned away and looked about his kitchen, itching for something to do that would distract him from thinking too much about it until Nami arrived.

The memory of her being so enthusiastic about eating his food before struck a node of inspiration within him. Perhaps he could work on making the three of them lunch for when she showed up. Zoro probably wouldn't eat much considering the state he was in, but he could still make something nice and light for the three of them to theoretically enjoy together.

Nothing extravagant, he realized, as he opened his fridge to check his supplies. A simple soup and sandwich combo would likely have to do.

He stood there looking at what his fridge contained, thinking about what he could make for a moment before he began pulling out ingredients to make a chicken noodle soup and an avocado, tomato, and chicken sandwich.

Bringing out a saucepan and pot, he began to prep his kitchen for the task at hand. In mere moments, his anger and bad mood were lifted as he settled back into an old routine he had begun to miss.

The sounds of him bustling around the kitchen and making sure he had everything he needed filled his apartment, bringing a smile to his face. There was nothing he enjoyed doing more than cooking, and hoped that the next two weeks of his paid leave off would pass by quickly so he could return to work. A slight pang of sadness struck him as he thought about it, but he knew his position as head chef at the Baratie would still be there for him when he finally did return.

As he became progressively more ensnared with what he was doing, he didn't realize that the prepping process had woken Zoro, who rose up sluggishly from his micro-nap. He turned his head to look over the couch and into the kitchen to see what Sanji was doing. From his position, though, there wasn't much he could see.

Standing up with a slight grunt, he meandered to the tall bar island that divided the space between Sanji's living room and kitchen. His host acknowledged his presence as he took a seat on one of the short bar stools that lined the divider and crossed his arms across the countertop, slouching down to rest his chin in the groove they created and watched as Sanji rolled out noodles from the homemade pasta dough he'd made.

"Feeling better?" Sanji asked, mindful of the way Zoro was casually staring at him. A noncommittal grunt and a lazy shrug of the shoulders told all. "Well at least you didn't puke this time."

"Maybe I should have."

"I would've kicked your ass," Sanji growled, carefully laying out the strands he had just rolled onto a baking sheet to rest.

Zoro cracked a cheeky grin, staring up at the cook with a playful look in his eye.

"You'll never be able to kick my ass," he said.

"I can kick your ass any day of the week," Sanji muttered, turning his back on him so Zoro wouldn't see how his face had begun to turn pink. That stupid look on his face had gotten to him.

"Big talk," Zoro continued to drawl, his voice taking on a more mirthful tone. "You couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag."

"It's like you're just  _begging_ me to try and put your other eye out," Sanji snapped as he moved to take two packets of chicken out of his freezer. He placed them in his sink and turned the hot water on, letting it pour over the chicken to quicken the thawing process. As he waited, he grabbed one of his knives and turned back to face Zoro and pointed at him with it. "And the only reason I'm not going to is because Nami would kill me if I did."

Zoro scowled, and for a moment Sanji was afraid he may have gone too far with his jest.

"Can't you do anything on your own without worrying about how it's going to affect your ranking with her?"

Instead of rising to the taunt, Sanji held his tongue. The last thing he wanted to do was get into another fight with Zoro, especially with Nami on the way. Never mind the fact that Zoro had recently been badly injured, Sanji was supposed to be trying to get on better terms with him anyway, and arguing like that wasn't the right way to go about it.

"Do you like avocado?" he asked instead, keeping his eyes focused as guided his knife through the pasta, expertly making the noodles smaller and evenly sized.

"No," Zoro said, pulling a disgusted face at the thought and moving to sit up straight enough to take off the hoodie he'd been wearing. Sanji kept his apartment warm, and the extra insulation from the hoodie was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

"What?" Honestly surprised by the answer, Sanji stopped with what he was doing to shoot Zoro a wide-eyed look of disbelief. "Really? But it's green?"

"What, just because something's green that means I have to like it?" Zoro quirked his brow before beginning to laugh outright; a deep, booming sound that instantly filled the entirety of Sanji's apartment.

Rather than let himself be embarrassed by the admittedly stupid thought, Sanji allowed himself to laugh along with him.

"What good is dying your hair the color of an avocado if you don't like them, idiot?" he said around his laughter, setting his knife aside for the moment as his humors overtook him.

"My hair color has nothing to do with what foods I like,  _idiot_ ," Zoro retorted, sounding snarky as his laughter subsided. He was grinning still, but had begun to wince. The fit of laughter seemed to have brought the pain back into his eye.

Wiping his eyes clear with the back of his hand, Sanji poked the chicken under the water to test if it had thawed out enough.

"Favorite color, then?" he asked in an attempt to keep their surprisingly friendly chat alive while he waited, the chicken needing another minute or so to be ready for him to slice. He set the pot he'd filled with chicken stock earlier onto a burner and set it to high.

"More like it was the first color I saw on the shelf when I was younger." A look of reflection crossed over Zoro's face as he reminisced. He became somber for a moment, a distant look in his eye taking his thoughts to a memory Sanji couldn't know.

The sound of the hot tap water splashing across the packaged chicken was the only thing that existed between them for a moment before Sanji remembered he had other things to prepare for their meal. Going to the fridge, he pulled out the tomato and avocado he was going to use for their sandwiches and placed them on his cutting board. When Zoro returned from his internal musings, he watched as Sanji began to demonstrate his expertise in the kitchen.

Sanji first washed the avocado under the water for a few seconds before replacing it on the board. With the tip of his knife, he held the avocado securely with one hand and then sliced through the center lengthwise and around the seed. After he had completed the full rotation, he twisted the two halves apart, cleanly separating half of the avocado from the large pit.

He then opened one of his silverware drawers and grabbed a spoon he could use to gingerly pluck the seed from the bulk of the fruit. Setting it aside, he then sliced the avocado into wedges before peeling the skin off. He tossed a piece of the peel at Zoro, which made him scowl and toss the peeling back at him.

"Can you tell me what the name of that song was we heard in the car?" Sanji asked then as he turned the hot water off and took the packages of chicken out of the sink. They seemed to have reached a point of amiability where he felt comfortable enough to ask about it.

"It's not that great a song," Zoro said with a lazy shrug. "Don't know why you'd want to know."

"I liked it," Sanji replied, looking away from what he was doing to make strong eye contact with him. With his point made, he picked out a clean knife from his wood block and used it to cut open the thin plastic that kept the chicken wrapped. "I thought it was good."

This time it was Zoro's turn to go red in the face. He cast his eye away and stood up awkwardly fast.

"I don't even remember what we called it," he mumbled as he went back into the living room to lay out on the couch.

"Liar," Sanji said, though it was more to himself than to Zoro. He raised his voice a bit so he knew he wouldn't be ignored as he said, "Tell me a song of yours that is good, then."

He half expected Zoro to say something along the lines of 'none of them' or something as he cut up the raw chicken into strands that would be small enough to put in the soup. With Zoro out of the kitchen, he could better focus on what he was doing; he'd almost let himself get distracted by his presence there.

From the other room he could hear Zoro inhale deeply as he pondered over the question.

"You'd probably like 'Keepsake', maybe," he finally answered, though he didn't sound too sure of his response.

Setting his knife down and turning on the sink with his elbow, Sanji quickly washed his hands so he could pull out his phone. He opened the Youtube app and then searched for the song Zoro had mentioned. Again, it was another song that wasn't off of the album he had already listened to before. Turning the volume up, he was prepared to listen to the song as it began when Zoro suddenly shouted.

"What, what's wrong?" Sanji asked as Zoro practically rolled off of the couch to run into the kitchen, almost sliding and falling onto the floor with his intense sense of urgency.

"Don't listen to it  _now_ ," he said, trying to grab Sanji's phone away from him so he could turn the song off.

"You said I could!" Sanji exclaimed, holding his phone closer to him so Zoro couldn't get to it. That didn't stop him from trying though, and Sanji realized that Zoro had no personal boundaries and was backing him into a corner towards the pot he was heating. "You're going to knock us into the stove you fuck!"

Zoro backed off, but looked incredibly flustered. Sanji had seen his face in all sorts of shades today, but this was the first time he'd seen it so  _red_.

"I'm not saying you  _can't_ listen to it, but don't do it  _now,_ " he said. Struggling for words, Zoro couldn't quite figure out how to say what he wanted to say. When it came to writing songs, he could explain himself to the world with great ease, but trying to get his thoughts across to people face to face sometimes proved too great a feat for him to handle. "I don't want you to listen to it right now. Listen to it later; it'll be better if I'm not around."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Even though he didn't quite understand what it was that Zoro meant, Sanji exited out of the Youtube app all the same. Zoro grimaced, but seemed satisfied regardless. He didn't answer Sanji's question as he drifted out of the kitchen and left Sanji to finish preparing their meal in peace.

He didn't understand what the big deal was as Zoro returned to his seat on the couch, sighing as he sank into the cushions. Maybe the drugs he'd been on at the hospital were messing with him now and influencing him to act as bizarrely as he was.

Sanji was ready to give him the benefit of the doubt on that one, but his behavior still ended up pissing him off. And to think they'd just had what possibly could have been considered the first civil conversation they'd had since they'd met.

The thought that the song may have had something to do with how Zoro felt towards Sanji never occurred to him.


	24. Spirit of the Radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Begin the day  
> With a friendly voice  
> A companion, unobtrusive  
> Plays that song that's so elusive  
> And the magic music makes your morning mood'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song used in this chappie can be found [HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TLGTXCkqcc) and is called the prettiest waitress in memphis
> 
> nano is kickin productivity WAY up
> 
> im estimating....maybe less than 10 chappies left to go before this bad boy can be marked completed
> 
> how exciting
> 
> esp considering when i started this story we didnt kno sanjis last name and now hes a vinsmoke so i have to go back and edit past chapters to keep up with continuity lmao

The biggest point of discussion that occurred after Nami arrived was not, surprisingly, about whether or not Zoro would take care of his injury properly on his own, but instead revolved around whether or not he would be okay enough to play at the student recital the next day. 

Nami seemed convinced that he shouldn’t, afraid of worsening his eye by over-exerting the muscles in his face somehow during the performance. Zoro insisted he’d be fine, and when the two asked Sanji his opinion on the matter, he knew better than to take one side over the other. He remained impartial to their disagreement as they ate, taking both of their points into careful consideration.

“It’s not like I fucked up one of my hands,” Zoro had said as he tipped his bowl against his lips to slurp the broth up noisily. “I’ll just pop a few painkillers beforehand and be fine. We already promised Tony; it’d break the kid’s heart to back out now.”

“Well what about the Tralalaw show on Sunday?” she’d asked then, guiding her spoon through the soup with an air of distraction about her. “There’s no way you’re still thinking of going to that.”

Their disagreement had exploded from there and they’d argued over that for a long while. It started civilized, but had eventually degraded to the point where they’d begun to shout and call each other names. Sanji wanted to intervene, but felt it was something that needed to be resolved between them. Zoro’s main point of arguing stemmed from the supposed pact they’d made that revolved around him going to the show ‘come hell or high water’, but Nami didn’t seem to want to hear it.

“This is  _different,_ ” she’d stressed around a mouthful of sandwich. “You know how rough their shows can get; you’re already hurt badly enough as it is, why risk making it worse?”

“Because I already bought a ticket,  _mom._ Whether you ‘allow’ me to go or not, I’m going to be there even if I have to drive myself and overdose on Oxycodone to do it,” Zoro snarled, daring her to challenge him further on the matter. “It’s the biggest show of the year and I’m not gonna miss it because some  _asshole_ cut up my fucking face.”

A line had been crossed; even Sanji had realized that. Instead of retaliating, Nami had only stared at him, full of an icy rage that threatened to burst before she abruptly pushed the rest of her unfinished food away from her. Clearly pissed, she’d bitterly thanked Sanji for the meal and left curtly without another word to gather the things she’d left in Zoro’s apartment.

“That was too far,” Sanji said, though he was beginning to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t have to take Nami’s side on everything.

Zoro had only shrugged, saying, “Had to let her know I was serious.”

He hadn’t stuck around much longer after that, having felt recovered enough to climb the three flights of stairs he couldn’t earlier. To his credit, though, he did offer to help Sanji with the clean up before following Nami upstairs, where their argument surely must have continued. Sanji didn’t hear Nami return down the stairs for quite some time after.

With everything said and done, he then spent the rest of his day alone.

When he’d finally finished washing all the dishes they’d used, he made a list of things he needed to restock on the next time he went grocery shopping, texted Nami to ask what time the Solstice recital started, and then killed time the only way he knew how: by studying up on various recipes and other cooking techniques he had not yet mastered.

By the day’s end, he’d completely forgotten to listen to the song Zoro had recommended him.

Then it was Saturday, and the thought that it  _was_ Saturday never occurred to him. The Solstice recital started in the early afternoon, allowing Sanji plenty of time to sleep in, shower, and groom himself before he drove into the downtown area. Knowing that the recital was a casual event meant he could dress down a bit, saving him time on figuring out what to wear. He settled for a nice button down and some high-waisted jeans that he could tuck the shirt into, knowing full well how many looks he was going to attract. He loved this particular look because it highlighted just how long his legs were, and today he felt like showing off. Today, he felt good.

Checking his look out in the bathroom mirror, he was pleased with how attractive he looked and deemed himself ready to leave. Pulling on his long coat, he checked his phone one last time before he walked out the door, locking his apartment behind him.

Sanji was in high spirits as he got into his car, even though Zoro hadn’t  _technically_  invited him to come by. Still, the recital was a public event, and he had no issue with admitting that he was excited to see him play, as he had yet to see him perform live in a semi-professional environment with a band. It was something he’d wanted to see for a while; watching Youtube videos of past Mugiwara Menace shows couldn’t contest with witnessing a live performance first hand.

He kept the radio station tuned to the same one that had played one of their songs before in hopes that they’d play another one for him to discover. As he travelled though, the only music they played was by musicians he’d never heard of before, and the Mugiwara Menace did not make a repeat appearance on the airwaves.

Parking was hard to find as he drove closer to the store, but he saw Zoro’s motorcycle parked by the sidewalk’s bicycle rack and Nami’s truck along the road and knew they were already inside. The turnout at the store when he finally did show up was much larger than he’d originally thought it would be, though it was mostly comprised of young kids eager to show off to their friends and family. He didn’t see Nami or Zoro as he walked in despite having seen their vehicles, and immediately felt out of place as he joined up with the crowd, lingering towards the back.

The stage was still being set up, with Franky’s employees struggling to stack a large amplifier over top of another one. There were several rows of fold out chairs set up in sections in front of the stage, and as he took off his coat to drape it over the back of one in the last row, he earned several appreciative glances from a few women. Unable to help himself, he returned a few of the looks with a smile he knew was seductive that turned a few faces red; it felt good to  _look_ good. He couldn’t help but wonder what Zoro’s reaction was going to be when they finally did meet up.

As he took his seat, he pulled out his phone and sent Nami a text that read, ‘I’m here, where are you guys?’ and resumed looking around the store to see if he’d perhaps missed them somewhere. It was then he felt someone’s hand clasp his shoulder. He looked up, half-expecting it to be Zoro and instead found himself staring into the broadly grinning face of Franky.

“Hey bro! Glad you could make it out!” he said as Sanji slipped his phone away and returned the smile.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he replied as Franky pulled out a chair for himself and sat down beside him. “Brook told me I should come, I think.”

“Aw yeah, way to go Brook!” Franky laughed and put up his feet on the vacant chair in front of him to tilt his seat back, balancing meticulously on the rear legs. “Looking for your squad?”

 “Yeah, I guess so. I texted Nami and told her I was here already but haven’t seen her yet.” Again, he let his eyes rove around the store in an attempt to locate them. “Have you seen them?”

“Ah, yeah, her and Zoro are in the back giving his kid one last pep talk before we get this show rolling,” Franky said, turning his attention towards the stage where a few of his technicians were now setting up a drum kit for the show’s use. “Poor Tony’s more nervous than a deer at a shooting range. But don’t worry, they’ll be out soon; show’s gonna start in a hot minute.”

“I’d be nervous too, with a turn out like this,” Sanji said, gazing once more at the decent sized crowd of people that had showed up.

“One day you will be, if you keep up with the lessons.” Franky turned and shot him a grin. “ _Speaking_ of, Brook told me you missed yours this week.”

“Oh. Guess I did,” he said. He hadn’t actually forgotten, but with Zoro in the hospital, he didn’t think he’d still be expected to come in while his instructor was incapacitated. At the very least, he hadn’t received a call or an email about what he was supposed to have done.

“All good bro, Brook’ll get it rescheduled for ya, but you missed the chance to learn with me! I was covering all Zoro’s lessons while he was out, but I guess you didn’t get the memo on that one eh?”

Franky laughed and almost let his chair fall completely backwards. He quickly righted it with the grace of a man who has made the same mistake several times before by swinging his thick arms to counter-act the momentum until he stabilized himself.

“No, I guess I didn’t,” Sanji mused, trying not to laugh outright at Franky’s antics. His energy was infectious though, and it was hard not to.

“Hey man, it’s cool, probably our fault you didn’t,” he said, his energy calming down to a level that was a little more socially acceptable after he almost took a spill. “Brook’s a great coordinator, but sometimes the technology we use outsmarts him. But hey, lookie lookie who it is.”

Pointing towards the back of the room behind the stage, Sanji saw that Zoro and Nami were walking out of the lessons hallway with a small boy wearing a pink top hat. Zoro had his hand on the kid’s shoulder, supportively guiding him towards the seating area. When he saw them, Franky sat up, letting his seat fall forward onto the front legs with a grunt.

Franky waved to grab their attention, whereupon Zoro released Tony’s shoulder and handed the kid the little guitar case he’d been carrying for him. He leaned down to say something to him then, which garnered a nervous smile from Tony. They parted ways, with Tony hurriedly walking towards where his grandmother was and Zoro and Nami meeting up with Sanji and Franky.

“Hey guys,” Nami said, smiling and giving a small wave as she walked up. Sanji greeted her with a smile and nod in return.

“How’s lil Tony holding up?” Franky asked.

Zoro and Nami shared a slight grimace between them.

“He’s…. more or less okay. Just got some pre-performance anxiety, you know.”

“Poor kid,” Franky said with a dramatic sigh. “Ain’t easy being a natural talent at his age; lotta people have eyes on you.”

The solemn way he’d spoken implied that he was speaking from experience. It was a hard burden to carry, Sanji knew, as he too had been affected by the pressure of being a talented cook as a child. Franky stood up then and put his hands on his hips, smiling proudly at all the people gathered in his humble store before any of them could dwell on it for too long. Sanji spared a quick look at Zoro to see how he was doing, and found that the oaf was actually looking at him. There was a dopey sort of look on the guitarist’s face that Sanji attributed to the fact that he was probably rolling off of the pain pills he’d said he was going to take before they started playing.

His hair had also been restored to its bright green state, and there was no longer any trace of his natural hair color to be seen.

Zoro maintained the eye contact even as Sanji looked away hurriedly.

“Well, time to get this bad boy started; looks like Mozu and Kiwi have finished up,” Franky said, attracting everyone’s attention by clapping his hands together He turned towards Zoro and Nami and asked, “You guys ready?”

Nami nodded, a playful look in her eye as she said, “Let’s do it!”

“Super! See you after this is all over pal, hope you enjoy the show,” Franky said to Sanji before walking away, heading towards the stage where a microphone and stand had been set up.

“Good luck guys,” Sanji said, smiling warmly up at Nami as she, too, began to take her leave.

“Should be saying that to the students,” she laughed before turning away and making her way to the front.

Zoro lingered behind for a moment, even as Franky tapped on the microphone to get his audience’s attention.

“What?” Sanji asked, crossing one of his legs over the other.

“Did uh,” Zoro began, but faltered. He had clearly been looking at Sanji’s legs, and had to clear his throat and look away to continue. “Did you happen to listen to the song?”

“What so- Oh, uh, no, I forgot,” Sanji said, torn between feeling guilty and pleased by the fact that his clothing choices had worked the way he’d wanted them to. “Though I wouldn’t have if you’d just let me listen to it yesterday.”

Zoro’s lips twitched into a slight frown, an unreadable expression on his face that registered as slight disappointment. An apology was on the tip of Sanji’s tongue when Zoro walked away without another word, joining Nami, Brook, and Franky on the stage by the microphone. The guilty feeling completely outweighed everything else he felt now, but he did his best not to become consumed by it.

“Hey everyone! Before we start, I just wanna take the time to thank everyone for making it out here today to watch our students show off the talent they’ve been working  _super_ hard to refine over the course of this year,” Franky announced, speaking warmly into the microphone. He paused to allow the audience their moment to applaud him, and then continued. “They’ve worked hard under the care of our instructors, who will join them on stage to perform a song of their choosing that’ll exemplify their growth. So without further ado, let’s begin!”

Sanji clapped along with the crowd, impressed with the level of professionalism Franky displayed when he’d only ever goofed around with him before. He’d initially had his doubts about how a man like Franky could own a store, but they were quelled now by his speech. Everyone involved in the production looked happy to be there, as both Brook and Nami had large smiles on their faces, but Zoro still had that half frown stuck on his as he left the stage to be replaced by the first of Brook’s students.

They were an older kid who was learning the fiddle, and played some sort of jaunty tune with Brook’s accompaniment. The speakers carried the song throughout the store, filling it with a lively atmosphere that had more than a few people dancing along to it in their seats. When the song was done, the student bowed off and another one of Brook’s kids took his place. They were doing the recital in batches so the mentors wouldn’t have to keep leaving and coming back to the stage.

For the most part, the kids performing played really well. Every once in a while one would slip up, but they bounced back from their errors with a red face and relative ease. Their talent was being put on full display in an environment that was receiving them well with great encouragement; Franky and his establishment had gone to great lengths to ensure that that would be the outcome.

Occasionally Brook would take a seat behind the drum kit to play along with a kid on guitar, and once or twice he even sang to great applause. It made Sanji wonder if anyone in the audience ever thought to make the connection between Brook and his old alias of The Soul King, as he sounded much the same as he did when he was active. If anything, though, they probably thought of him as a wonderful impersonator.

It took an hour for all of Brook’s students to have their allotted stage time and play through their music. The songs each of them performed ranged from classical music to instrumental renditions of popular rock songs, and every one of them was finished to a round of applause. When the last of his students finally left the stage, Brook went with them, inviting Franky to take the stage once again to congratulate them all on their performances and to introduce the next grouping.

What Sanji had wanted to see all along was finally about to happen.

When Zoro took the stage, he walked with a sort of surly swagger, slipping the white bass that had been left on the stage for him out of its stand and across his chest. An air of arrogance surrounded him as he tuned it, but to his credit, he had sort of dressed up for the occasion and wasn’t wearing much of his usual punk attire. At some point after returning home he’d found three more safety pins to line his ear with, and for some reason, Sanji found that to be comforting, as though Zoro had reclaimed some part of himself that had been lost with his hospitalization and eye.

His first kid stepped on stage, and immediately Sanji noticed a difference in age when comparing Brook’s students to Zoro’s. Brook’s set had been kids of a younger talent, whose parents had probably been told at some point that learning a classical instrument would benefit their child’s development somehow. Zoro’s students were noticeably older; preteens and teenagers who wanted to learn something that would annoy their parents and impress their friends.

They were guitarists who had picked up on some of the punk attitude Zoro had rubbed off on them and bassists who admired their instructor’s talents and sought him out because of his professional career. Occasionally Nami would join them on stage to play a song that sounded better with a three part ensemble, but not once did he open his mouth to sing until that little boy Sanji had seen him with earlier hesitantly took the stage.

The poor kid’s knees were practically knocking into each other as he carefully placed his guitar’s strap across his shoulders and plugged into the amp. Nami, sitting behind the drum kit, threw the boy a supportive thumb’s up which seemed to strengthen his resolve a bit.

Taking his place at the microphone, Zoro looked distant and a little pissed. His eye hovered over the audience, staring more at the back wall than he was at the people filling the rows of seats; the painkillers must have been wearing off.

“Tony and I have been practicing this song for a few weeks now,” he said, and broke the stoic way he was looking out to grin at the kid nervously tuning his guitar. “And even though he’s been coming here for like, two years now, this is the first time we’ve conned him into performing in the end of year recital. We’re all very proud of him.”

Tony’s face took on a furious hue of embarrassment, generating some laughter from the crowd. He said something in response that couldn’t be heard as he wiggled around uncomfortably, but made Zoro chuckle.

“Anyway, the song he picked to play is called ‘The Prettiest Waitress in Memphis’ and we hope you like it as much as he does.”

He stepped away from the microphone then and backed up to say something to Nami, who nodded. She began to clap her drumsticks together to start a countdown, and on the count of three they began to play.

Tony was far more impressive than Sanji realized a kid that young could be. He started off strong, playing the opening rift with great ease and composure, the earlier set of nerves that had been affecting him now gone.

The bass line was steady and fast, being powered on by Nami’s drumming as she set the pace for the song. And then, oh, then, Zoro began to sing.

“ _Well there is only one reason I stop in this place; let me stress that it ain’t the cuisine-”_

The way he was singing seemed refrained, making his voice sound different from the way he sang on the songs he recorded with the Mugiwara. It was, in a way, a little cleaner than it usually was; less like he was singing with a handful of gravel in his mouth and more like he had an actual voice. Sanji understood then that this wasn’t a performance for his benefit, but was instead holding back in order to let Tony shine.

When the fuck had Zoro gotten so damn  _considerate_? Perhaps he always had been, and Sanji just hadn’t noticed it till now.

“ _She’s- the- prettiest waitress in Memphis, and I think she’s flirting with me-”_

For a kid as young as Tony was, the amount of dexterity he had in his fingers was beginning to make Sanji jealous. They were moving so precisely even though he had his eyes closed the entire time, hitting every chord and note he was supposed to without needing to double check his finger placement. His expertise with the guitar was highlighted beautifully by Zoro and Nami, who were each doing their best to support him.

What Nami had told Sanji shortly after meeting him rang true regardless; Zoro definitely did sound better when he was plugged in.

The song held true to its steady, consistent rhythms as it progressed, moving through the first and second chorus until it got to the guitar solo, where Tony’s talent was truly put to the test. Looking at the faces of some of the other people in the crowd, Sanji could see that even many of them were just as stunned as he was by how  _good_  this kid was.

The solo itself didn’t necessarily fit the tone of the rest of the song, but was played so well that it didn’t matter. Tony’s fingers roamed the fretboard with practiced ease, hitting notes in a pattern that created a favorable melody that Sanji found his body trying to sway to. On and on it went, fingers roving up and down the neck as Tony held a strained sort of look on his face that showed just how hard he was concentrating. And then it was over, with the three of them finishing the song to much applause after the final chorus was finished.

“Thank you,” Zoro said, smiling and speaking a little breathlessly into the mic.

He ruffled Tony’s head as the kid took a bow, knocking his hat to the floor. Tony’s face when he righted after picking his hat up harbored a pleased smile that stretched from ear to ear as he unplugged his guitar with a slight burst of static and left the stage.

Zoro himself held a satisfied smile as well, and Sanji could feel his heartrate pick up when the punk’s gaze looked out over the audience and landed on him for a moment. This time, Sanji didn’t break eye contact until Zoro had to turn away to walk off the stage. Franky took his place, and commenced with his closing speech to wrap up the event.

“Huge thank you to everyone who came out today to support our young up-and-coming super stars, and an even bigger thank you to those who performed! You’ve all been  _super!_ ”

With his short speech finished, the crowd began to disperse. Family members went to congratulate their kin and Franky for hosting the event, while Zoro, Nami, and Brook hovered around the stage area, talking amongst themselves and anyone who came up to thank and speak with them.

He sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do until Nami made eye contact with him and beckoned him to join their group. Gathering up his coat, Sanji stood up and made his way over, straightening out his shirt as he went.

“Ah! Mr. Vinsmoke! So pleased to see you again!” Brook exclaimed, greeting him with a broad smile and bringing him into their conversation, which seemed to have been about whose kid had done the best.

“You can call me Sanji,” he said with a half-smile, shifting his weight so he stood primarily with a lean, hip cocked to the side and holding his coat politely in his arms before him.

“Well! Mr. Sanji, how did you enjoy the recital? We showcased many young talents tonight, I do dare to think!”

“Yeah, they were awesome,” he agreed, and then gestured to the three of them standing there. “You guys were, too. That was really cool to watch.”

With the recital now over, most of the store’s main floor had thinned out considerably. Some people still lingered about in the rows of seats chatting amongst themselves, but for the most part a majority of the crowd that had been there was now gone. No longer restricted to his hosting responsibilities, Franky shook hands with one of his patrons and then joined them by the stage.

“What a great turn out! You guys were super!”

“The kids were the super ones, Franky,” Zoro said, though he did look incredibly pleased with himself. Leaning his back against the stage, he had a content look upon his face that eased some of the naturally hard angles of his profile, giving him a more youthful appearance.

“Yeah, but you guys were super too! We should go out for drinks tonight to celebrate a job well done!”

“You buying?” Nami asked, a sly look coming over her at the possibility of free drinks.

“Sure, I’ll buy us all a round; you guys deserve it!” Franky almost shouted, unable to keep his enthusiasm in check.

“Just a single round?” Nami pouted. “Didn’t we do  _super_ well though?”

“Don’t I pay you enough to buy your own drinks?” Franky responded good-naturedly, laughing when Nami shook her head no. “Fine,  _two_ rounds on me then!”  

Nami let out a little cheer at that and turned to Sanji, saying, “You come too; it’ll be fun with all of us together.”

“Quit inviting him to everything we do,” Zoro complained loudly, letting out a sound of exasperation. “This is supposed to be a  _reward_ , not a punishment.”

At that, everyone in the circle booed him. Brook and Franky instantly rallied to Sanji’s side, each of them clapping one of their hands onto his shoulder in solidarity.

“Sanji’s a great guy from what I’ve seen!” Franky attested, shaking him a little as he spoke for emphasis. “He absolutely deserves to come celebrate with us!”

“He hasn’t  _done_ anything worth celebrating,” Zoro drawled, but it was evident to Sanji now that he was only complaining for the sake of complaining. There was no fight in his voice or posture, and his lips were drawn up into a slight smirk.

“He’s taking lessons! He is learning something  _new,_ and that in and of itself is something worthy of celebration!” Brook said fiercely, shaking Sanji’s other shoulder.

“Alright, alright, he can come, whatever, just quit shaking him like a baby or you’ll break him,” Zoro said, laughing now at the sight of Sanji being rattled so carelessly between them.

They both immediately stopped shaking in favour of cheering, and he wasn’t sure who it was, but one of them initiated a group hug that he suddenly found himself being roped into. He tried to pull himself out of it, but their grip over him was too strong. They held him in place as Nami brought Zoro in, all of them hugging in an awkward huddle before they finally all let go.

“Same old place?” Nami asked once they were all standing on their own again.

“Same old place,” Franky confirmed. “Same old time.”

“What’s the same old place?” Sanji asked, looking to Nami for some insight into the situation.

“We go to Blueno’s Bar usually, since its close by and the owner knows Franky pretty well,” she elaborated. “Sometimes we hang out there after work.”

“And the same old time?”

“We usually close the store at 9:30, but we’re closing early tonight, right Franky?”

Again she turned that sly charm upon him, fluttering her lashes a bit in an attempt to get him to agree.  Checking the clock on his phone, Sanji saw that it was only 4, which would mean he had quite a few hours to kill before they all went drinking if that was the case.

Franky frowned, but appeared to be contemplating her request.

“I mean, I guess; none of you guys have any lessons today because of the recital anyway,” he mused, scratching his cleft chin in thought. “Doubt anyone’s gonna come in wanting to buy a guitar that late on a Saturday anyway. We can get outta here by 6.”

“Yes!” Nami exclaimed, and even Zoro seemed pretty thrilled about being let off early, despite the fact that the only thing he had to do while working  _was_ give lessons.

“I’ll go tell the rest of the family,” Franky said, beginning to take leave of their group. “So meet up at Blueno’s at 6:15 for your free drinks.”

Brook chuckled and shook his head, delighted by the turn of events. As he too was about to step away, he seemed to remember something and turned back.

“Oh! Before I forget, Sanji, would you like to reschedule the lesson you missed last week?” he said, speaking to him with an inquisitive look.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” he said, quirking his brow at Zoro. “Are you going back to work so soon?”

“Like I said before, it’s not like I broke my hand or my wrist or anything; I can still play and teach with one eye,” Zoro scoffed, holding his hands up for mock inspection. “You all just saw me play for an hour fine.”

“And how many painkillers did you have to take in order to do that?” Nami chastised with a frown. Zoro didn’t answer, and instead rolled his eye.

“Whatever,” he said dismissively, taking leave of their group to hop back on stage and collect his guitar. “I’m resuming my lessons ASAP, so schedule him for whenever you can, Brook.”

Nami sighed, but Brook nodded.

“Will do, Zoro. Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, Sanji, and we’ll get that sorted out for you.”

“I’ll be up front when you’re done,” Nami said as Sanji followed Brook away and into the lesson’s hallway where his office was.

They rescheduled his next lesson for Tuesday at the same time he’d been set for previously. Brook apologized for not sending him the notification that stated Franky would be covering Zoro’s lessons, and Sanji once again found himself almost unable to believe that he was talking to  _the_ Soul King. Brook was just so humble and polite that it was hard to believe he had once been a rock star of incredible fame. His attention was once again drawn to the photograph of Brook and Jimi Hendrix together, when a thought occurred to him.

“Would you uh, ever be opposed to maybe signing something for me?” Sanji asked, trying not to look as awkward as he felt. “Like, as the Soul King?”

Brook looked up from his computer with a surprised look, his fingers halting over the keyboard mid-stroke.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be worth much,” he replied with a light laugh. Despite his joking nature, he seemed confused by the request.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to sell it, it’s just, uh.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Christmas is coming up and the old geezer has all your records so I thought it’d be cool if I got something signed for him.”

Cocking his head to the side, Brook merely stared at him for a few seconds before bursting out into what was perhaps one of the most obnoxious laughs Sanji had ever heard.

“Of course! What a thoughtful young man you are; I can see why everyone speaks so highly of you!”

“Maybe not everyone,” he replied quietly.

A small, relieved smile appeared on Sanji’s face as he thanked him though, promising to come by with an album he could sign as a gift he could give to Zeff for the holiday. He had to start thinking about what to gift his new friends as well at some point, but would deal with that later as Brook got his rescheduled lesson into the system. With everything taken care of, Sanji returned to the main area of Super-Star! Guitars and met up with Nami, who, along with Zoro, had resumed her usual perch at the front desk.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing you Tuesday  _and_  Thursday next week,” Sanji said to Zoro, who groaned and spun himself around in Nami’s chair.

Despite how it seemed like he was annoying him, Sanji was glad to see that Zoro’s disposition hadn’t changed much with the loss of his eye. Any other normal person, himself included, he supposed, may have become depressed over the loss of such a vital part of the body, but Zoro really didn’t seem to care. He carried on as he normally would have; his resentment of Sanji included.

“Can’t fuckin’ wait,” he grumbled, though as he turned away Nami caught a slight smile trying to force its way out.

“Well lads, since we have some time to kill, want to run over the game plan for tomorrow?” Nami proposed, grabbing a pen and a piece of printer paper.

“Why, what’s tomorrow?” Sanji asked.

“I swear you have the memory of a goldfish or some shit,” Zoro said, spinning back around to fix Sanji with a look that betrayed his annoyance.

Sanji opened his mouth in an attempt to argue back, but was shushed immediately by Nami before he could say anything.

“Nope! We are not doing this in public. The Tralalaw show is tomorrow, remember?” Sanji’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as recognition dawned across his face. “Yeah, so, we should probably work out some of the finer details in advance.”

“Anything you say, my sweet! You’re so smart for thinking ahead!”

Looking around for a place to sit, he was dismayed to find that Zoro was occupying the only chair behind the desk. He settled for half-sitting on the ledge of the desk beside Nami, who was beginning to write on the paper. At the top, she wrote in big, bold letters: ‘TRALALAW PLANS’.

“Ok, so first things first: Sanji, you gonna ride with us?”

“There’s no room,” Zoro said abruptly, now twisting himself lazily around with his feet.

“He can ride in the back with you,” she said. “It’ll fit two.”

“Oh, are you driving the truck?” Sanji asked, to which Nami nodded. “Well, if you’re being gracious enough to drive us all, then who would I be to refuse the ride?”

“Alright,” Nami said, smiling. She made a bullet point on the page and wrote down ‘carpooling’ beside it. “The next order of business is deciding when to leave. The doors open at 7 and the opening act starts at 8, so I was thinking if we left at 3, we could make it to the Hazard by 4 and that should give us plenty of time to-”

“Why so early?” Sanji couldn’t help but interrupt. “We’ve already got tickets, so shouldn’t we be okay showing up somewhere closer to 7?”

He could tell by the way Nami’s face slowly fell that he had said something obviously wrong. She raised her eyebrows as she slowly turned to share a look with Zoro, her eyes lingering on Sanji before they caught up with the direction she was facing.

“Um,” she began, but stalled due to her bewilderment. “It’s… standing room only, you know? We have to get there early to camp the line so we can be up on the stage. Have you… ever been to a live show before?”

Sanji could feel his face flushing with the embarrassment of unknowing and tried to suppress it as best he could. A bit reluctantly, he ended up shaking his head. Evidently, he was experiencing a lot of firsts with this new group of friends.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Ah, that explains it,” she said, stepping forward to punch Zoro in the shoulder when he began snickering. “So, the thing is, when a show is general admission, you wanna get there as early as possible so you can get the best viewpoint, which is dead center right at the front of the stage. In order to do that, we have to show up a few hours in advance and camp the line so we can get in first and secure a spot.”

“Right, makes sense,” Sanji said, trying to play off his embarrassment coolly. Zoro still had a smug smirk plastered across his face though, making it difficult. There was nothing more he wanted to do in that moment than to kick that look right off the bastard’s face. “So, you’ll pick us up at the apartment at 3 then?”

“Not too early for you, is it? Got some really important day plans to attend to?”

Zoro uttered an ugly cackle, throwing his head back and spinning himself in his seat until his back was turned on them. Apparently the pain pills were not entirely done affecting him yet. Beside him, Nami shook her head and rolled her eyes, but she too had laughed a little bit.

“Just ignore the idiot,” she said, and made a dash underneath the ‘carpooling’ bullet point that detailed the time they had decided to leave at. “But yeah, be ready by 3. And be sure to wear something really warm, because it’s going to be cold riding in the back.”

“If  _he_ can handle it, then I surely can as well,” he said, focusing what was left of his good mood on Nami.

“You two can share the blanket in the tool box, too.”

With Zoro’s back still turned to them, Nami took the opportunity to throw in a wink with her suggestion. Flustered, Sanji had to look away.

“Speaking of dressing warmly,” he said, immediately switching the subject. “What should I wear? That is to say, I don’t exactly  _dress_ like a punk.”

Here he opened his arms and gestured to his current outfit, which didn’t fit his perception of how a ‘punk’ would dress at a show that was reputedly going to be the ‘best one of the year’. Zoro spun back around and gave him a once over, prompting Sanji to close his arms and cover himself with his coat.

“It doesn’t matter what you wear,” Zoro said, resting his head so far back on the chair’s back that he was looking up at the ceiling. “If you’re afraid of looking like a poser or some shit, don’t be; it’s the jackasses who think punk has a uniform that are the posers. Wear whatever the fuck you want.”

“Inspiring,” Sanji said blankly, trying to maintain his façade of nonchalance.

Zoro’s head snapped up on his neck to fix him with a beady squint before it fell back onto the seat cushion.

Truth be told, what Zoro had said did help to put his mind at ease. There was a part of him that was afraid of showing up to the show and being called out for not looking the part. The insecurities he felt only reinforced the idea that this wasn’t his place, and that the styles and music and attitudes he was dabbling in would eventually come to reject him on that basis. He wasn’t a punk, and doubted he ever would be; not on their level.

“If you’re really worried about it, you can wear one of Zoro’s jackets,” Nami said. “But it’s like he said, there’s no wrong way to look at these things. If anyone tries to give you shit for it just beat them up. They’ll learn.”

She reached out and touched his arm, and his unease resettled into a nagging sense of insecurity he’d carry with him in the back of his mind until he was at the show. He didn’t want to let it root in too deeply, and instead focused on looking forward to the night of drinking he had with the friends he’d made who were allowing him this glimpse into their lives.

Eventually though, his free trial would expire and he would have to make a decision regarding his level of commitment to being their friend. 


End file.
